#on the outside it's a collector's habit

[caesarflickermans]

No matter what I do, rest assured that none of my headcanons will ever be as bad as "Caesar tattooed all the initials of the tributes on his body"

you land in bed with the master of ceremonies, he undresses and looks like that. wdyd

[dollishbabess]

your writing is literally so underrated, I love how you write reader as a actual person and not babyish ilyy, ALSOO when are you gonna write for tim and Damian and Bruce you only write for Jason mostly 😭, but write them maybe like a tim fic or hcs? <3!

TIM DRAKE DATING HCS! - dollish

A/n: actually, stay tuned for October for my romtober series which each batboy (except Bruce) has a week and fic prompts!! And also tysm I try, I don’t like personally how y/n is written either too badass or either too soft either so I understand🩷

1. Midnight Research Sessions Tim loves to pull all-nighters, and when dating, he often invites you to join him. These sessions aren't just about crime-solving; he includes random deep dives into shared interests or new topics. It's his way of showing that he wants to connect with you on multiple levels, valuing the bond that comes from exploring knowledge together.

2. Organizational Obsession Tim's meticulous organization skills extend into the relationship. He keeps a digital archive of your favorite things music, books, random facts you've mentioned so he never forgets even the smallest details. It's his way of making you feel seen and valued, ensuring that no part of you is ever overlooked.

3.Themed Date Nights Tim is surprisingly creative when it comes to planning dates. He organizes intricate, themed adventures that often tie back to his detective skills like treasure hunts or escape room-style challenges. He loves putting in the effort to make every moment special because he believes that shared experiences create the best memories.

4. Incorporating Tech into Romance As someone who's always around technology, Tim uses it to his advantage in romantic gestures. He might design a personalized app just for the two of you, where you can leave secret messages or keep track of your favorite moments together. It’s his way of expressing love through what he's naturally skilled at.

5. Sudden “You’re Safe” Hugs Whenever he’s been busy with a mission or stressed, Tim has a habit of hugging you out of nowhere. It’s his silent reassurance to himself that you’re okay, and he didn’t miss out on spending another moment with you. Given how much he’s lost in his life, these hugs are his way of grounding himself in the present with someone he loves.

6. Comfort in Chaos Tim can be a bit of a workaholic, but when you’re around, he always makes room for you in his chaotic schedule, whether it’s inviting you to hang out while he’s deep in case files or finding time to text you between missions. To him, having you nearby in the midst of his chaos is a reminder that there’s something good waiting for him outside of work.

7. Endearing Rambling Tim tends to go off on passionate tangents about things he loves, and it often ends up being one of the ways he shows affection. He wants you to understand his world, and he feels safe enough to share every little thought with you, even if he knows he might be rambling.

8. The Hoodie Collector As someone who wears hoodies often, Tim always lets you borrow his, and he secretly loves seeing you in them. Over time, he starts leaving his hoodies at your place on purpose, subtly marking his presence in your life. It’s a simple but intimate way for him to feel connected to you, even when he’s not around.

9. Late-Night Coffee Runs Tim has an odd sleep schedule, and sometimes he’ll take you out for spontaneous coffee runs in the middle of the night. These trips aren’t just about caffeine it’s his way of escaping the pressures of being a hero, finding solace in mundane moments with you, even though he prefers energy drinks but it’s more “aesthetic” for coffee dates yk?

10. Gentle Wake-Up Calls Knowing that he often wakes up early or has inconsistent sleep patterns, Tim takes pride in waking you up gently with a kiss on the forehead or by playing your favorite song. It’s his small way of making your mornings brighter and ensuring that he’s the first one to greet you at the start of each day because he knows how hard it is to wake up (himself personally for Mr. Doesn’t sleep)

11. Intellectual Challenges Tim loves a good intellectual debate, and he often initiates them with you to see things from your perspective. He doesn’t just want someone who agrees with him; he wants someone who can challenge him, and it’s his way of showing that he respects and admires your intelligence.

12. Hidden Love Notes Even though he’s not overly sentimental, Tim is known to leave little post-it notes or encrypted messages for you to find. They range from sweet nothings to random jokes or clues for a mini-puzzle he’s set up for you, showing that he’s thinking about you even in his busiest moments, he personally used to write fake love notes and throw them around school so people would find it and just create drama PROBLEMATIC KING!💜

13. Training Partner Tim appreciates someone who can keep up with him, so he loves having you as his training partner. It’s not just about staying fit it’s his way of ensuring that you can take care of yourself and that he can trust you to handle danger if it ever comes your way.

14. Silent Staring Sometimes, Tim just stares at you without saying a word, especially when he’s exhausted. It’s not that he’s spacing out; he’s just soaking in your presence, finding comfort in the fact that you’re there, and it reminds him that there’s more to life than constant problem-solving, but Bruce will just stare at you with no shame and will just STARE at you directly which is a bit uncomfortable sometimes.

15. Endearing Awkwardness Tim can be awkward with expressing emotions, but he tries so hard when he’s with you. He might stumble over words or make awkward jokes, but it’s his genuine effort to be vulnerable that makes these moments special. He believes that you deserve all of him, even the parts that aren’t as polished or perfect.

Second divider @cafekitsune, DO NOT TRANSLATE OR PUT ON A DIFFERENT PLATFORM, this is @dollishbabess work!

[quibbs126]

So someone on Twitter is going to be having a goldenraisin week I think pretty soon, and I remembered that I was going to try and make a goldenraisin kid before then, and so I finally did, and so, Charcuterie Cookie

So Charcuterie here was raised in the Golden Cheese Kingdom, presumably after it was restored. While she’s got an eye for shiny things, she’s also got her eyes on pretty much everything else, collecting whatever she thinks looks interesting, whether it be a trinket, a toy, or even just a pack of food. Anything could be something she finds interesting

However, she does not have a ginormous hoard, because with almost everything she collects, she gifts it away to pretty much anyone, if she thinks they should have it. And her gift giving intuition is almost always proven correct, even if the recipient themselves doesn’t really understand it at the time. If you want to give someone something, she is your go-to Cookie

She can for the most part, be mature and competent, being a good candidate for Golden Cheese’s successor, but she can get distracted if something catches her eye. She’s been trying to work on controlling her urges, but sometimes it wins out and she goes full collector mode, forgetting everything else

I don’t think I have much else on her, but she’s neat

Okay, design time

So I think charcuterie was a suggestion after I asked what to do for a goldenraisin kid, since I didn’t know what to do outside of golden raisins, which I already did. But I think the name works

Charcuterie board:

So I’m not entirely sure how I feel on her design. I do feel like maybe I just threw things together. But she isn’t horrible, I suppose? Her hair’s definitely the least inspired though

I also wonder if she’s got too much and too many colors going on, but she is based on a whole charcuterie board, which is full of just all the foods, so I guess it works out

I wanted to give her mismatched jewelry to convey her collecting habit, with her just putting on whatever she likes, regardless of symmetry

Her sash thing is supposed to be meat, since charcuterie boards tend to have meat on them. It’s also why I made her eyes red, since while I wanted to incorporate meat, her parents are cheese and raisins, which doesn’t really allow for much of that

I’m forgetting if there’s anything else I need to remark on, I’m kind of in class right now and only half paying attention to this

But overall, I think she’s fine, maybe on the better side, but she could probably be better and more inspired. But oh well

But yeah, I hope you enjoy her

[bimbos-are-angels]

ᴅᴇʙᴛ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛᴏʀ

Arthur Morgan x Fem. Reader

cw: Suggestive

A/N: First Fic, it'll be a two parter!

You closed your eyes and gazed at the view above, orange skies as far as the eye could see as the bright sun set behind the mountains. Nothing could ruin your mood, you were on top of the world. “Miss?” Startled, you rushed up to find the unknown source of the strange interruption. To your surprise, you set your eyes on a stranger getting off of his horse, rugged and eyes darkened from days of traveling. “Can I help you sir?” You asked.

Setting his eyes on you, you felt more comfortable glancing up and down his figure. Broad and bent, he stood slouched, probably from the ride to your family's farmhouse. You and your papa were known in town for being hermits, rarely coming into town and when you both did, only grabbing the essentials. “ ‘Pologies for comin’ at a time like this, is yer daddy around?” You must have given him a look that indicated some sort of panic, your father had a habit of taking loans from shady people, and you knew that this man wasn’t there to sweep you off your feet like the stories you had just finished reading about. His face twisted, “Ah, I didn’t mean to startle you, but your father has unfin-” You interrupted, “He’s not in town, he had to leave for business you see… He uh-” Shifting closer to your person, you knew that this rude stranger who had interrupted your tranquility and peace could practically smell the fear from miles away. He dipped down to your level, inches away from your face, “I see yer father in the window of yer house, darlin’”

Eyes widening, you flipped around to face your house and he was right, your father was watching the interaction go down with fear. “I uh- I forgot!” You sputtered. The stranger sighed, trudging off to the front of the house while grabbing something from his satchel. “Wait! Mister!” Picking up your skirt and running after him you continued, “Mister! Now don’t get hasty, what are you planning on doin'?” Huffing from the distance you ran up to catch up with him. Stopping to face you, the stranger pushed his dark hair out of his damp face and mumbled “Yer daddy owed a hell of a lot of money- and paid none of it back.” Hearing the frustration on his gruff voice, you ran in front of him and yelled “My daddy was gonna pay you back! He just needs time-” He pushed you aside so he could grab the door to your house. His hands, they’re so rough and bruised. You could only imagine how rough they’d feel on your skin. “Who the hell do you think you are, comin' into our farm and pushin' us around like cattle?!” Startled by your mini tantrum, he turned for a brief second to stare you down. He was different from the other debt collectors, he was more…alive… than the others. His cold blue eyes seemingly stared into the depths of your soul. You had been intimidated by these types of men before. Hell, you had been pushed around by these men in an attempt to scare your papa. He was different though, you weren’t scared, however. You were intrigued, you almost wanted to scream more to get his attention and his gaze again.

His heavy metal-toed boots hit the floor as he made his way towards your father with a piece of paper. Your poor father went pale at the intruder making his way toward him, and he stuttered “Take what you want! I can’t pay you back right now in money!” Shaking and gripping the chair he had gotten up from, he continued “Take anything! There's horses and cattle outside!” Ignoring his pleas, the stranger spoke “Sir, names’ Arthur Morgan, and you owe an outstanding debt. More than anyone’s ever owed us.” He chuckled at the complete absurdity of what was currently going down and the amount of money written down on the paper, the newly acquainted Mr. Morgan waited for your father's reply. Like a deer in headlights, your father was one wind gust away from falling over. “How bout’ this-” Mr. Morgan spoke “-How bout’ I take your daughter?” Your father somehow got even paler, and eyes even wider. The implication of his request made you blush as you came up with scenarios in your head.

“-For physical labor.” Arthur interrupted your thoughts. “Yes! Yes please just take her!” What? What did your papa-Your father-just say? You must have misheard. “Daddy?” You could just barely get out from your dry mouth. “Grab your shit girl, you heard him.” Staring at the figure in your house, you started to run towards your room and didn’t dare to disobey him. He was probably a killer- an outlaw who probably killed young women such as yourself. You suddenly get the same feeling you did when you met him, a fuzzy and blinding feeling that makes your legs shake and your head throb. What did this stranger mean by physical labor? Speak of the devil, he�� happily leaned on your door frame and asked with a shit-eating grin: “Yalmost’ ready darlin?” 

Part 2 out now!

[violetdawn001]

What is with the Dreamers' Houses?!?! Monomon's Archives

Okay, we can all agree that Team Cherry put a LOT of thought into crafting the backgrounds and environments of Hollow Knight. But why is nobody talking about the designs for the Dreamers' houses?! Especially compared with their base forms?  Well, let's start talking about it!

Behold! Monomon's Design!

Taken from Monomon-the-Teacher.jpeg (1280×720) (punishedbacklog.com)

Taken from: https://i.ytimg.com/vi/Yn7QtF-wkSY/maxresdefault.jpg

When you meet the Teacher, the first reaction is either "She's beautiful…" or "WHAT IS A JELLYFISH DOING IN A KINGDOM OF BUGS????" If one isn't your first reaction, then it will most certainly be your second.

I could go on about how Monomon pairs her elegant beauty with her mysterious origins, but then I would be repeating words all day. Let us pause and consider how Monomon, as THE Teacher, would teach Physics…while defying them. It isn't too much of a stretch to say Monomon would float outside of her tank when the all the other Jellies in game do.

Next is her Archives that to my knowledge, lacks books.

We are immediately treated at the entrance of Monomon's Archives.  The only word that could sum it up would be awe: awestruck due to the beauty and the mystery. Looking at Monomon's house from the front can't help but remind one of how Jane Austen would describe a character's house…and how the house perfectly matched the character.

Entering the Archives, we quickly guess that no one has been here in a long time.

But walk in far enough…

And you can't help but guess what an awesome place this must have been.  Take a look at the detail!

The insane amount of knowledge stored here is amazing…and we're on the first floor!

Though we can't read most of it…and what we can read…

Why Monomon, why? Even STEM students need to be proficient in spelling. Source: my engineer brother.

Moving on, the pathway to Monomon's tank is very straight-forward. So much so that we never get a chance to see all of the Teacher's Archives. One point that strikes me is that we never get a chance to see any classrooms. We see Monomon as a researcher as noted by the Charged Lumafly tank and entry:

We know Monomon as a collector of information:

We even get glimpses of Monomon being a mad scientist by creating the Uomu, Oomu, and Uummu.

But the only sign of Monomon being a teacher is by her relationship with Quirrel and the name of her Archives. Unless I am missing something, (or we are simply not able to enter the classrooms) the Archives are more of a library and research center than a school. While I am of the mind that we simply do not see the whole Archives as we are so dead-set on getting to Monomon herself, it really says something about Monomon that we can only see the Madame as a Teacher in her relationships with others.

I would love to further this point, but this essay is for the Dreamers' houses, not necessarily the relationships the Dreamers had unless the relationships are implied in the housing designs themselves, such as the masks in Herrah's Den. Another essay would be required so the Dreamers' relationships can be given the focus and care they deserve.

Returning to Monomon's Archives, it is strange that of all the rooms we get access to, it is not ones that Monomon's students can enter. The pathway to Monomon's tank is blocked by acid.

Yet we are the ones able to see Monomon in her resting place.

Besides Quirrel. But Quirrel has a habit of getting into places most wouldn't dare enter. And it is fitting that Quirrel, Monomon's closest student, is the one to enter Monomon's inner sanctuary.

The Tech in the room is simply amazing and begs more study. Atlas, I fear I might have missed a great deal when it comes to the Teacher. If there is anything more, I hope another member of the Hollow Knight community will step up to fill the void, pun intended.

Now, let us discuss a resting place not for Monomon, but for the player.

Is not this place so elegant in its decay? The perfect symmetry and the framing of the moss ceiling…it is a terrible pity we could not see the Teacher's Archives in Hallownest's prime.

Moving past the pity, let me share a little detail. Team Cherry, when designing each location, placed signs of the ruler of said location in the framework of the place, usually in the fencing. For Teacher's Archives…

It's right at the bench! Which means Monomon is in charge!

The above statement, while made in good jest, possibly bears more weight than on a passing glance. We see no Hallownestian Seals or crests imbedded within the walls. There are also no King's idols or any item to be retrieved from the Archives. Everything in the Archives is centered around Monomon and her research.

This idea gives rise to a theory that perhaps the Teacher's Archives was not part of Hallownest, but rather neutral territory where ANYONE could come to learn about anything in peace. This would not be the first time in media where such a place existed. The TV show "Babylon 5" tells the story of a space station created as a place where the different alien races can learn about the other races in neutral territory for the purpose of creating peace.

 To answer some objections, yes, "The Pilgrams' Way" does pass through Fog Canyon, but it also passes through Greenpath which technically belongs to Unn, not the Pale King.  And the Archives is one of the few places that has its own, unique bench. 

If the Archives is not part of Hallownest, what does this neutrality tell us about Monomon? If the Teacher's Archives is indeed neutral territory, it shows how much emphasis Monomon puts on knowledge being open to everyone as the purpose of the Archives is a place to store all the knowledge she collected.

But if Monomon was neutral, how did she get involved with the Dreamer plan? Simple. Monomon cared about her students. Monomon welcomed everyone from anywhere, and everywhere was infected by the Radiance. To save her students, the majority of whom came from Hallownest, Monomon became a Dreamer. Unfortunately, it was all in vain as the world fell into stasis as one by one Monomon's students either died or fell to the Infection. The Archives, where you could find anyone from anywhere in Hallownest, now only holds jellyfish…

Before we wallow in sorrow, let us escape to the City of Tears and to the final Dreamer. Wait for part 3.0 coming soon!

This is a part series to see if I can fit everything in. I hope you enjoyed Monomon's Archives!

Part 1.0: Herrah's Den : Here

Part 2.0: Monomon's Archives (You are here)

Part 3.0: Lurien's Spire : Here

Part 3.25: More of Lurien's Spire: Here

Part 3.5: Lurien's Spire: Pillows and Patriotism: Here

Link to essay on Ao3: Here

[immortalmsmoon]

Toge Headcanons cus i love him <3

he loves loves loves to cook.

has a really long drawn out hair care routine that takes him a couple hours to do.

really enjoys to do a deep clean of his dorm once a year and is totally the type to see something while cleaning and get so distracted for hours

sends letters to Yuta frequently and there always about the most random stuff its so funny. they get so long that sometimes he has to use three pieces of paper. he likes to send little gifts as well, and will send little trinkets like stickers he found at a cute store or a little polaroid picture of all of their friends.

he knows they can text, but he feels like sending letters is so much more personal

he does text Yuta a lot though, and usually its pictures of things he saw throughout his day like a pretty sky or a funny sign he saw while walking down the street.

his room decor is absolutely crazy

a lot of it is random stuff he found -he's a collector- and the other half of it is funny stuff he printed off or pictures of his friends.

his room is really comfy actually. he has a large collection of bean bag chairs and the LED's he has set a nice mood for his room. his friends spend a lot of time there, its like the hang out spot.

also collects shoes, and has them on display. really likes Jordans and Nikes.

really good at buying gifts for his friends birthdays. knows EXACTLY what his friends want, and always includes some sort of little gag gift or something to do with an inside joke.

he may not be able to talk, but he really likes to show how much he cares about them through his actions, and has a big habit of giving things to his friends. he's kind of like an outside cat- bringing little things to the people he cares about, but instead of bringing dead mice or birds he brings little trinkets.

even though he doesn't talk much, his voice is SO PRETTY and he is a GREAT singer. honestly, its a blessing he can't speak more because everyone would constantly be in awe of him.

[th3-c0rps3-r0gu3]

Shadows.

Chapter one.

pairings: Natasha X Wanda, Natasha X umbrakinetic child!reader, Wanda X umbrakinetic child!reader, Avengers X umbrakinetic child!reader.

Warnings: swearing. That's it I think lmk if there's more.

Summary: Natasha and Wanda are used to the dark. But what happens when the dark isn't what they thought it was.

Umbrakinetic: the ability to move, manipulate,summon or control shadows or the absence of light. Can move through shadows or turn entire being into shadow.

3rd person.

Natasha woke up before Wanda which was unusual as her wife was always up before her and making breakfast. However Natasha often prefered when she woke up first. She enjoyed watching her wife sleep serenely. It was comforting and Wanda always looked absolutely adorable when she was asleep. However Natasha had things to do this morning and that started with a run. Natasha's days always started with a run no matter what.

The wind was cold against Natasha's skin as she jogged down the familiar streets. She ran her usual run. Natasha was a woman of rutiene and she liked it that way. If Natasha established a habit then that habit stuck. Unless it was Wanda. And today it was Wanda. Wanda was a woman who was proud to say that her and rutiene didn't belong in the same sentence unless it was with cooking. And Wanda being Wanda she had begged Natasha to try something new. Something different. And so now Natasha stood outside a small bookshop.

The bookshop had been a place Natasha had breezed by on her runs multiple times. However she hadn't taken the time to notice it properly. It was a rather wild bookshop. There was no order to it. There were murals on the walls of wizards fighting witches or dragons and knights in shining armour saving princesses. The bookshelves looked to be made of a dark oak wood and had intricate carvings detailed in them. And this was what Natasha saw through a window. And so deciding this is exactly what Wanda had meant Natasha entered the bookshop.

The smell of old and new books filled Natasha's sinuses. Somehow the whole store looked much more magical than it had outside the window. A kind looking woman in her mid 30s looked up behind a counter and smiled at natasha.

"hello there what can I do for ya?"

The first thing Natasha noticed was she had a thick Australian accent.

"Nothing in just looking around."

Natasha responded politely.

The woman simply nodded and smiled at her. There was only one other person in the store at the moment. A rather battered looking teen. Either 14 or 15 years old. However Natasha seemed to stare at the odd looking child. She had skin so pale one would think it white and hair blacker than the colour itself. But what intrigued Natasha most was the girls eyes. They were a pale grey blue but they almost seemed clear. Like coloured glass. The teen seemed to sense Natasha looking at her and looked up and straight at Natasha before shrinking into the bean bag she was in and burying herself back into the book she had in her hands. Her hands were another curious thing. They had black leather gloves on them. Looking away quickly Natasha moved to look at the shelves. She quickly managed to find the fantasy section and tries to find one Wanda might enjoy.

After a while Natasha has found 3 books. A fantasy one called six of crows by Leigh bardugo. A murder mystery book called a good girls guide to murder by holly Jackson and another fantasy book called the witch collector by Charissa weaks. Natasha held the books and walked over to the counter. The Australian woman looked up from the book she was reading herself and took Nats.

"these be all then?"

She asked while scanning the books.

"yeah."

Natasha glanced back at the teen in the beanbag behind her. She couldnt help it. Her appearance was so peculiar.

"if its not rude who's the teen?"

Natasha asked looking back at the woman.

"that's y/n. And if you dare say she looks freaky I will not hesitate to hurt you. Poor kids been through enough."

Natasha raised her eyebrow.

"what do you mean?"

"She's been living in the streets since she was 8 years old. And she refuses to talk about before that so one can only assume the worst."

The woman responded handing Natasha back her books. Natasha glanced back at the teen. The girl had looked rough before and now Natasha knew why. Concerned Natasha turned back to the Australian woman.

"So where does she stay?"

The Aussie womans eyes fluttered over to y/n before she sighed.

"she mostly sleeps where ever she can that's sheltered. I don't know about food though. I let her stay here and read even after the stores closed but she helps with inventory to compensate for it."

Natasha nodded.

"do you think if I offered her a home she'd except?"

The womans face saddened.

"I doubt it. I offered her the spare room to my own apartment but she refused. Said staying extra at the shop was enough. You can try though."

"I will. Thanks for the books... uhm"

"Sandra. My name is Sandra."

"thanks Sandra"

Now filled with determination Natasha took the books and walked over to the teen and sat down in the opposite beanbag. Seeing her the teen hid behind her book again.

"hello there."

Natasha said softly trying not to scare the kid. Y/n just looked at Natasha obviously trying to figure out why she was talking to her.

"hello"

Y/n responded quietly. Natasha figured she would be shy. She glanced down to the book in y/ns hands.

"what book are you reading?"

Y/n searched Natasha's face again before responding slowly and even quieter than before.

"Two can keep a secret by Karen m McManus."

Natasha nodded.

"So what brings you to be reading at a bookstore instead of a library?"

Y/n looked down at her book.

"I'm not aloud in the library."

She murmurs. This makes Natasha frown. The library is supposed to be for everyone.

"y'know your a bit young to be out in your own."

Natasha said. It was obvious small talk to build up to offering a home wasn't gonna work with the kid so Natasha decided to get to the point. Y/n frowns at Natashas words.

"I'm 15."

She said somewhat defensively.

"still young. A kid like you shouldn't be in the streets. I may not know you but I'm sure you know me."

"your the black widow..."

Y/n said softly.

"mhm. And I know that whatever you've gone through is probably shit. There's space at the tower for you to stay."

Y/n seemed shocked and her head shot up and she stared at natasha.

"I can't stay with you... your a superhero and I'm a freak..."

Natasha frowned at her words.

"I'm not gonna force you to come with me but I am going to tell you that whoever called you a freak has made a major misconception. But the offer still stands. I'll come back here tomorrow at 10 am."

Natasha said. Y/n just seemed more shocked before she gently nodded. Natasha stood up and glanced one last time at y/n before leaving the bookshop.

As Natasha walked back to the tower the realisation of what she had done hit. She had just offered a homeless teen a place to stay and now she needed to convince the others to let her keep that offer up. This was not going to be easy.

A/n: and that's the end of the first chapter. Lmk if you want this to continue though I'll finish it anyway because ideas are spinning through my head rn.

[thesightstoshowyou]

A Trick for a Treat

- A Series -

~~ Over the next few days, I hope to get out a few shorts detailing what my favorite characters are up to on Halloween ~~

(Part 1)

Part II

Asa Emory (The Collector) x Cricket (OC)

- Less Torturemurder AU -

Second part to this

The scratching of the pen pinched between Asa’s fingers is barely audible over the giggling and screeching of children just outside his office window. The Collector curses his office location. Every year he forgets about this little event until it’s too late.

It is time again for student volunteers to host the annual Trunk or Treat in the university’s parking lot. The promise of a “Safe and Sweet” Halloween always draws a sizable crowd. Sizable and noisy. Now, his vehicle is trapped among the throng of wildly dressed children, parents, and college students and Asa is forced to finish grading here rather than in the comfort and silence of his home office.

Gritting his teeth, he makes a particularly aggressive mark in red pen. Truthfully, his thoughts are elsewhere, his mind hyper-focused on the intricacies of a new trap design. It just needs a little fine tuning, something he cannot do from this god forsaken office. He’ll need to put a reminder in his calendar for next year so this doesn’t happen—

“Dr. Emory?” A voice like the delicate twinkling of a wind chime sounds from his doorway. Asa lifts his gaze from his work. Instantly, his throat dries when his dark eyes land on the figure in his doorway.

It’s the girl. The heterochromatic one. The ballerina taking the anatomy lab across the hall from his Thursday lecture. The one who has haunted his every fantasy ever since she’d wished him a “Good morning,” in that sweet voice the second week of classes.

The woman who’d baked him cookies and asked him on a date.

She’s dressed in a black leotard that glitters here and there in the low light. A frilly tutu sits around her slender waist, and black ribbon snakes up each of her perfect legs. A costume, obviously. She must be volunteering outside.

“Yes?” he replies finally, beyond relieved he managed to keep any emotion out of his voice.

“I saw your light was on,” she comments, taking a small step past the doorframe. Her hands clasp together before her and Asa finds it difficult to tear his gaze away from the graceful bend of her wrists.

“…Do you make a habit of checking my office window?” His expression is blank, but there is a slight teasing tone to the rasp of his voice. The little upturn of her lips tells him she caught the jest.

“Kinda hard to miss it when you’re the only one working late.” Another step closer. He hums noncommittally and the pen falls to the desktop with a quiet clatter.

“Can I help you with something, Miss—

“You didn’t call.” It’s not accusatory, or chiding, or petulant. Just a simple statement that teeters on the verge of a question. Asa glances to the drawer where he’s kept her number hidden for two and a half weeks. Slowly, he leans back in his chair and rests his chin on a fist.

Her comment isn’t entirely true. He did call, but he only let it ring once before slamming the receiver back down. Taking her on even one date is a terrible idea, no matter how he looks at it. It’s reckless. Dangerous. If he lets her in, allows her past this carefully constructed wall, she will inevitably start asking questions, questions he will never be able to answer.

Asa’s chest rises when he breathes in a steadying inhale. “I…didn’t think it appropriate.”

“To date a student?” she finishes for him. Another step. She’s almost to his desk now.

Asa nods. She bites her lip and the muscles in his shoulders tense. “I’m a non-trad though.” She’s teasing back now.

“And that somehow makes it more appropriate?” He can’t stop the way the words leave his mouth like a purr. Tentatively, the girl completes her approach. One, elegant hand lifts slightly so her fingers can trail daintily across his desktop as she slowly steps around the side.

“It’s not like I’m fresh out of high school or anything,” she murmurs in response, offering a little half shrug. She winds around his desk, then leans back against the edge. He can smell her now, the floral notes of her perfume invading his senses and making him salivate like a predator catching the scent of its prey.

Dark eyes that glitter like her costume rake over the ribbon encircling her legs. He allows his gaze to linger there, too long to be “appropriate.” Slowly, his eyes slide up to meet hers—one green, one brown. There’s pink tinging her cheeks, a soft blush spotted with freckles.

Careful and measured, Asa rises from his chair. Calloused fingers slide against smooth oak as he places his palms on the desktop, one on either side of her hips. He cages her in, dwarfs her slight form with his, invades her space until he can feel the warm little puffs of her breath against his lips.

He’s not touching her though, not yet. Asa fears if he were to feel the soft, pliant expanse of her flesh under his hands, his resolve will crumble away entirely. Though, with the way she shivers now, trapped between him and the desk, he’s mere seconds from losing it anyway.

“No, I suppose you’re not,” he rumbles quietly, his words only for her. His gaze darts down to admire the way her teeth catch her bottom lip before quickly returning to her eyes. “What was your goal in coming here?”

“I…” her voice cracks, the single word escaping as a quivering chirp. She clears her throat and tries again, cheeks now a deeper shade of red, “I thought that would be obvious…Sir.”

Asa’s eyes snap shut as a jolt of arousal arcs through his gut like lighting. Fucking. Hell. He would do almost anything to hear her call him that again. Sucking in a breath through his teeth, he looks down at her again.

“…Why do you keep coming back?” The question is harsher than he’d meant it to be, but she doesn’t balk or look offended. On the contrary, she appears more determined than ever.

“Because I want to know you. I want…you. And…I think…the feeling is mutual.”

If she knew how right she was…. He replays her words in his head and it dawns on him then that she feels the same. Asa searches her mismatched gaze for hidden meaning, but all he finds is earnest sincerity.

One hand leaves the desktop. Slowly, purposefully, Asa’s fingers graze her throat and curl around the back of her neck. His thumb comes to rest on her pulse and finds it racing. Her eyelids flutter closed as he leans in, inch by agonizing inch.

The first brush of her plush lips against his shocks him all the way down to his toes. It’s impossible to stop his other hand from coming up to grip her jaw, from crushing his lips to hers, from opening his mouth to swallow the little whine that escapes her throat. When his tongue slides past her lips, he tastes mint and the chocolate she’s been handing out to trick or treaters.

Her hands raise to settle against his chest. She gasps when he grips her wrists in one hand and squeezes, not hard enough to hurt, but forceful enough to get her attention. Against her mouth he growls, “Keep your hands to yourself until I tell you otherwise.” The hitch in her panting is not one of fear.

“Yes, S-Sir.”

It takes Herculean effort to rip his lips from hers. Asa breathes in deep and stomps down the heat raging in his blood so he can grit out, “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” He hates how hoarse he sounds. The sight of her swollen lips parted, eyes half lidded, cheeks blushing so pretty and pink for him nearly destroys the remaining vestiges of his self control.

“M-Maybe not,” she stammers in a whisper. Her hands tremble in his grip as she continues, “But that d-doesn’t make me want it any less.” Asa clenches his teeth and forces out a shuddering exhale. Inhaling again only pulls more of her scent into his lungs and dumps blazing need into his belly.

“…Then I suggest,” he murmurs, fighting to keep his tone steady, “We find a way out of this parking lot before I show you right here in my fucking office.”

“I’m parked in the side lot,” she breathes out and jerks when Asa slams the file on his desk closed.

“Lead the way.”

[peaky-shelby]

New Romantics | Mbappé [4]

» summary: in which an arrogant and talented football player (the best of his time as some say) and a focused and harsh critic of a journalist are gonna have to find a way to co-exist.

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» chapter 5: everyday is like a battle

» Writer's note: every chapter will be separated in three parts (sort off). And every part will have each own song to listen to while reading. It's an attempt to get y'all in the emotion hehe. Enjoy reading xx

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I was scared of pretty girls and starting conversations...

FRENCH BAR - NIGHT

“They are always using the same starting 11” she drew on the napkin, the paper getting slightly torn apart as she’d write on it. She had a made a sketch of what looked like a small field and drew 22 small circles on it, 11 on either side, representing each team. Then over the circles she’d write the names of the players. “That makes it easy to know how the game will play out.”

She was in the middle, sitting in between Ektike, Ramos, Burnet, Neymar, Hakimi and Kylian. Everyone was looking at her sketches, especially Ektike who was sitting next to her. Kylian was sometimes glancing at it but he was trying to look like he didn’t care much about what she had to say. “They are weak at defending their set pieces-“ she made an arrow from on circle to another “which allows you guys to move freely on the field-“

“But they foul a lot. And they foul hard.” Jumped in Neymar who was sitting on her other side. He pointed at one of the circles “He’s ruthless.”

“So, use that in your favor. They have a habit of fouling on dangerous areas.” She explained. “That alone creates a lot of chances for you.”

“You expect us to stay there and let ourselves get fouled then?” asked Kylian, leaning forward on the table. He was testing her. Hakimi was observing, expecting another round of comebacks and insults to begin.

“I expect you to be smart. If they want to be reckless and stupid and foul you right outside of the box then that’s on them” she smiled “it’s what I did to Verratti today. He could have chosen to pull back, pass the ball over to his teammate but he wanted to go against me so instead his chose to kick the ball on his right leg- he didn’t calculate his injury. Reckless and stupid.”

Kylian didn’t answer but he kept his eyes on her as the rest of the boys continued to listen to her pointers. She turned the napkin the other way, writing down all the weaknesses she had supposedly journal through the season about ANGERS and their approach. Most of the boys seemed to humor her, even agree with her. That’s when he realized two things. First was that she and her boss hadn’t analyze only his career down to the tiniest of detail but she was like a hard disk. She knew the stats of all the players, ready to answer with numbers at any question. How had she memorized all that information without burning her brain cells? Second thing was that the girl had written and sketched out the strategy for an entire match on a napkin. A freaking napkin that someone would come and throw away. It didn’t surprise him anymore that JW had sent her in Paris instead of coming himself. He started seeing her true potential, the reason Marcos and Galtier trusted her as much as they did and he was even more intimidated by it. So, he kept his mouth shut and casually observed the way she was slowly adapting around the members of the team. Even Ektike had began taking a liking at her and Ramos was more friendly than the others.

“You don’t have a favorite player?” Neymar stretched his hand behind her on the booth, leaning closer. Kylian watched them getting closer from the corner of his eye. Taylor put her hand on his face to push him away from her personal space.

“Hoping to hear your name junior?” The boys laughed. Neymar admitted defeat and pulled back. “I don’t because my job is to not be biased.”

“JW taught you that?” Asked Burnet. She got nervous at the question and nodded quickly.

“Yes. That and everything I know.” She motioned at the napkin. Kylian caught her expression changing like she was anxious about something all of a sudden.

“Looks to me like you know a little more than him” Hakimi said while snatching some chips from the middle of the table. Kylian gave him the side eye, was he warming up to her as well? “I mean you’re basically a walking Wikipedia. Does he even pay you enough for what you do?”

She laughed to hide her anxiety. No one else was laughing though, so she choked it, coughing to regain her composure. “Um... he’s- I wouldn’t be half of what I am without him.” In a way it was true. JW was someone she used to be, someone that wasn’t fainting after the first half and that could get brutal if she wanted to. JW was who she would have been if she hadn’t been cursed by life.

“Does he even play ball the way you do?” Ramos asked. She scoffed again, looking away, avoiding making eye contact with any of them.

“He’s a great player. Better than me.” She answered, keeping her voice steady. She looked up, her eyes finding Ramos “He’s… he used to play professionally, like you. He was a great talent.” She smiled weakly “but life happened and unfortunately, he had to let go of the sport. So, he tried to find a different way to be involved.”

“A very annoying way.” Said Ektike, drinking his beer. They started laughing again, complaining about the articles that JW had written about then in the past. Kylian didn’t, which his own friend, Hakimi, thought was very weird of him. When everyone else was occupied paying the bills or trying to at least because Ramos wasn’t gonna let Taylor pay for her drinks, Hakimi leaned closer to Kylian who was focused on his beer bottle. He kept scratching on the label, taking the sticker out.

“You know, You’re the one that invited her.” He told him, low enough so only he would hear. Kylian raised his eyes, he glanced at Hakimi and then at the girl who was getting up, getting ready to leave. He never answered to his friend’s comment. He got up as well, wearing his jacket, he neared Taylor, his hand touching the small of her back. She flinched at the contact, turning to face him and he pulled his hand away quickly, instantly regretting touching her. She examined him, suspiciously. He slipped his hands in his pockets, clearing his throat.

“You need a ride?” he asked but his tone was cold despite the offer like he wanted her to refuse.

“Ramos already offered” she answered. A sudden relief washed over him but at the same time… regret?

“Actually-“ Ramos was looking at the GPS on his phone, tracking the way to her house “Ky’s house is on the way to yours. I’d have to go out of my way.” He explained “maybe its best.”

Kylian looked down at her, accepting his fate. She seemed to accept it as well, nodding. After everyone said their goodbyes, Kylian and her made their way to his car. She felt weird just by sitting on the passenger seat. It was an expensive car, just like the bar she had spent the last couple of hours in. She wasn’t used to that, she never made big money from football, never had this sort of life and it began to dawn on her how her life was changing. Hanging around millionaires and basically celebrities. More than 10 people had come up to their table tonight, asking for autographs and pictures, especially from Kylian. The same Kylian that was now driving her to her apartment and who had deliberately turned the music on the radio so he wouldn’t have to talk to her. Every time she thought that he was warming up to her, he would shut her out in seconds like he was blaming her for all his insecurities. She tried to find a subject, something that had nothing to do with football, maybe about Ann. But she stopped herself before she said anything, every time. She didn’t try to make a conversation, she didn’t want to have another fight with him, she was too tired for that and no matter their relationship he was still driving her home. That was decent of him. Although she did wish he’d let her learn more about that side of him, instead of always getting so mean and abrupt.

Kylian was thinking the same in a sort of way. He wanted to make conversation, he wanted to follow the plan that he had set with Verratti and get close to her but he didn’t know how. He couldn’t stop himself from getting defensive around her, especially when they were talking about football. So, silence settled around them, an uncomfortable kind of silence that not even the radio could make better.

He stopped at a red light. His eyes scanning the roads and the stores on the sidewalks. That’s when he saw a pet shop, he looked away quickly but the idea had already gotten in his head. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, thinking about it. He looked at her, she had no idea. She was staring out her window but she hadn’t seen it. He smiled, why was he smiling? He forced his features to get serious. He failed, after a few seconds he was smiling again. He looked at the store, biting is lip as the idea in his head was getting louder. When the light turned green, he started the engine and drove, stopping in front of the store. The sudden stop made her worried, she gave him a weary look while he was unbuckling his belt. He nodded at the store behind her, signaling her to look. She did but she glanced back at him just as quick, still confused.

“Promised I’d get you food, right?” he explained and got out of the car before she could stop him. She laughed at his actions in disbelief. She observed as he entered the store, taking out his wallet, picking out a bag with cat food and giving it to the cashier, then he paid and picked it up again. Coming out and back to her. He entered the car, sitting next to her and handed her the bag. All she could manage to do was stare at him, her mouth open in shock as she held the bag in her hands. She kept glancing back and forth at him and the cat food. Her scoffs turned to chuckles, the corners of his mouth turned up when he heard her laughing like that and he started the car again.

She drew her lower lip between her teeth, shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable.” She leaned back on her seat and he laughed. He glanced quickly at her, then back at the street. “Is this some sort of peace offering?”

He pouted his lips, his hand falling on the side as he thought about it. “Is it working?”

“I mean it would have gone terribly wrong if Luna wasn’t actually a cat-“ she tried but he started laughing before she even finished the sentence.

“Somehow I never feared that-“

She smacked him on the shoulder. The way she’d smack her friends. He pretended to be hurt by the contact, pulling away from her. Silence returned to the car after a few more giggles but this time it was sweeter, it was easy. She gazed at the streets of Paris, she was slowly accepting that this would eventually be her new home and the guy sitting next to her was her co-worker, someone she’d spent hours on end with.

“I don’t hate you; you know?” he said and she wished she had recorded it. At first, she thought that she heard wrong and she wanted him to say it again but then he said something that sounded more like him “I really don’t like your boss-“ She sneered, looking away. The irony was too much for her but she didn’t say anything. “But I think you’re smart… sometimes.”

She scrunched up her face, almost smiling “Good to know”

He stopped the car as they reached her apartment building.

“Thank you for the ride and you know… not driving me off a cliff” she said, earning another laugh from his.

“Thank you for not poising my drink, even though I’d deserve it.”

“Truth is I tried, Hakimi just stopped me multiple times.”

That cracked him up, he leaned his body forwards as his chest vibrated with laughter. She laughed along with him. They had to take a few deep breaths before they both managed to collect themselves. They would still let out small laughs, that were coming out as whispers, unable to hold back their smiles. He turned his head to face her, his eyes falling on her. He noticed she had a tiny mark of a scar just over her eyebrow. He noticed small things about the side of her face, her sharp cheekbones, her lines. He looked away when she gazed at him, he didn’t want her to know he had been staring. She reached for his shoulder, a move he didn’t expect but he looked at her tiny palm on his board shoulder before connecting his eyes with hers.

“Can I give you an advice without you lashing out at me?”

He thought about it but eventually nodded.

“Be more of yourself on the field. Don’t let insecurities take over you. You don’t have to prove you’re great, we already know you are. You just have to play.” She raised the bag he bought for her and smiled “thanks again” she said and exited the car.

But the secret is still my own. And my love for you is still unknown

TAYLOR'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

She ran upstairs to her apartment, the cat coming and curling at her feet the minute she got inside the small apartment. Taylor smiled down and knelt to pet her, rubbing he ear as she poured in her palm “Got you a surprise.” She sang and shook the bag in front of the little kitten. She put a handful of the food on the cat’s bowl and saved the rest on the cupboard under the sink. She had a shower, washed her face and drank her pills. She poured herself a bowl of cereal and sat on her bed, eating them while staring threateningly on her computer screen. She had opened a blank page, a blank page that she was supposed fill. She started multiple sentences after setting down her ball on the nightstand but she kept erasing them. Starting over again and again and again. She tried to use music to get her mind working, listening to Jennifer Owens. The song “Alone” played on the background, and she started tapping on the keyboard, hoping to get her inspiration flowing but it was worthless. It was like she couldn’t gather her thoughts on one paragraph. She didn’t even know where to begin. Was she supposed to write about today’s training game? Talk about her encounter with the young fan? She just stared on the blank box, waiting for an article to write it’s self. Time would pass and the page would remain empty. Why was she struggling so much? She huffed and laid her head back on the pillow, rubbing her eyes together. Luna crawled up in bed and up to her chest. Pouring in between her chest, taylor uncovered her eyes to see the cat and pouted.

“I think I’m in trouble.” She admitted but the only thing the cat did was lean closer and down to her neck, closing her eyes and sleeping on her skin. She petted the cat, her fingers diving in her black fur. She smiled. “Yeah, you don’t care, do you? Of course, you don’t. you’re just a cat.” She laughed, remembering her discourse with Kylian. She could feel her cheeks burning up, turning red but she waved him off her mind and got up to start writing while everyone else in Paris was asleep, the way lonely people do.

KYLIAN'S HOUSE / BEDROOM - NIGHT

Kylian on the other side of Paris, in a whole different apartment, wide and modern, he sat on the edge of his bed. The view from his window was beautiful, the city lights, the streets, the houses, everything seemed so small from where he was. Even the Eiffel Tower looked small in the distance. He kept replaying the last thing she told him on his head. Surprised at himself that he never responded to her. He laid backwards, closing his eyes. His phone buzzed and the screen lit up next to him on the mattress, showing his father’s face appearing on his screen. He picked it up.

“Oui papa?”

“Kylian, es-tu prêt pour demain?” [are you ready for tomorrow?]

Kylian closed his eyes, his expression saddening. What happened to asking people if they were ok when calling. “Oui.” He answered.

“Tu t'es suffisamment entraîné?” [did you train enough?]

He sighed, moving the phone away from his ear while his father went on and on about every single thing he did wrong on the last match and how he should avoid doing the same mistakes again. A part of him wanted to hang up. Maybe even throw the phone out of the window “Kylian? Kylian? Tu m'écoutes?” Kylian moved the phone back to his ear, his eyes remaining closed.

“Oui, papa. Mais je suis très fatigué. Nous parlerons demain, d'accord?... Oui, moi aussi, Pa. Bonne Nuit.” He threw the phone across the mattress the minute his father hanged up. The usual silence filled the room, the silence of lonely people. He covered his face with his hands, dragging them across his face and he fell asleep after a while his body giving in that silence and the soft mattress. He fell asleep with his clothes, with his worries on the back of his head, with her laugh echoing in his mind and his father’s pointers. You know, the way that lonely people do.

They both woke up at the same time by their alarms, in different bed and different rooms. Taylor had fallen asleep with her computer on her chest and when she woke up, she already had a headache. Kylian woke up in the same clothes, with a slight neck pain because he never moved to lay his head on the pillow. No matter the differences and the miles away from each other, each in their bedroom as they opened their eyes the same words slipped out of their lips “It’s game day.”

Taylor jumped out of her bed, the cat getting scared and tangled in the sheets, the computer almost falling on the ground before she dropped herself and reached her hand to stop it from crashing “oh my god” she mouthed to herself and put the computer back on the bed. She ran around her small apartment, bumping on the walls and stuff that she had left on the floor. It was a messy apartment to say the least. in the bathroom, washing her face and her teeth and then went to her kitchen to make coffee. While the coffee was brewing and her the bread was getting toasted, she grabbed her jeans, putting them on quickly and stumbling, falling on the ground. She got up fast, looking in her closet for a shirt. “What am I supposed to wear-“ her phone began ringing. That’s when she realized it was under the sheets so she started throwing them around, looking under them in panic until she found it under her pillow “Yes?” she answered. “Yes, coach I’m on my way.” She reassured him. From the corner of her eye, she caught her cat getting near the Kettle, smelling it. She tried to keep her composure until Galtier hanged up, her eyes opening wide and she ran to pull the cut away from the burning machine “You’re gonna burn your mustache!” she yelled. The cat meowed, asking for food. She leaned her forehead on the cat, shaking her head. “What’s the worst thing that can happen right?” Luna meowed again.

Kylian’s morning was calmer. He moved around his large apartment slowly, from his bathroom to his kitchen. Everything was on their rightful place; the floors were clean and the white color on the walls and the minimalist decorations were a huge contrast to Taylor’s space. He sat on the table, slowly sipping on his coffee. The slight domestic sounds were the only thing you could hear. He’d scroll on his phone, see a couple of tweets, like pictures on Instagram, answer a few messages. He was calm, used to these mornings. The calm before the storm he called them.

TRAINING CAMPUS / OFFICES – DAY

Taylor rushed up to Galtier’s office, holding all her folders and her papers in her arms and her laptop hanging on it’s bag from her shoulder. When she came in Galtier was on the phone so she looked around awkwardly, wondering if she could leave the folders on the chair or the table. She slowly tried to place them on his desk before the fell over but Galtier stood up, yelling on his phone, which scared her and she pulled back quickly, tripping and falling on the chair behind her, hugging the papers so they wouldn’t fall off her hands. She pretended like she actually meant to sit down, trying to look composed. Galtier threw his phone on the table when he hanged up, cursing in friends. He sat back down like nothing had just happened and looked at her. It took her a while before she got the memo and placed all the papers on his desk.

“These are from yesterday’s conference with ANGERS. I tried to gather everything they said in a couple of pages-“ she handed him two papers. He took them, scanning them back and forth but he wasn’t reading them. “They are certainly trying to provoke but I think it’s because they are scared. They have the same starting 11 as we expected-“

“Were you at the conference?” he asked, looking at her. Her shut in a tight line, she thought about his question, then started shaking her head slowly.

“No sir. I got the interviews online.”

“I want you to be on every conference from now on.”

She nodded “Yes sir.”

“What else do you have for me?”

“I made up my suggestion for the starting 11.” She slipped a paper towards him “An analysis of the approach I think we should follow-“

“You’re nervous.” She stopped, her eyes getting bigger. She didn’t respond. “I can promise you the boys are more nervous than you are. If you wanna do this job you have to learn to be brutal not just on paper but on the field as well. You can’t be looking like you’re going to throw up.”

She gulped, tried to calm her features and her expression to look calmer “I’m sorry sir. It’s just the nerves of the first match.”

“The players will get here at 5, the bus will leave at 6 so we can be on the stadium by 7. I expect you to have gotten your nerves under control until then.” He said and waved for her to get out of the office. She wanted to crawl and hide in a hole. Instead she jut founded the nearest corner and leaned her body against the wall, closing her eyes.

“What am I doing?” she whispered to herself, rubbing her eyes. She looked at her clock, realizing she only had a few hours to finish her pregame article. She went to the kitchen, opening the laptop and began writing. Pregame articles on her website were one of her favorite things to do, she’d write about where she saw the game going and making her predictions. She started writing a sentence about her low belief in Kylian, how she hoped that he would finally get back to the great player he was before the world cup but began feeling this regret in her chest. Like she was doing something wrong. And she didn’t feel that only for Kylian but for all the boys she had grown close to in the last couple of days. She read the whole article ones; she wasn’t happy with it. She wasn’t as harsh with the boys as she should have. Why had she let herself get as close to them? a few seconds later Neymar and Hakimi came in.

“Ola Princessa” called Neymar when he saw her and walked over to her, leaning on the table to peck her kiss in a teasing and flirtatious way. She pulled back quickly. He frowned at her reaction but didn’t say anything. He went to the fridge to get himself a water bottle. Hakimi sat next to her while she tried to keep her distance from him.

“What are you writing?” She closed the top of her computer before he got a glimpse of her writing. Hakimi raised his eyebrows. “All good?”

“Perfect.” She answered and got up, getting her computer with her. She headed for the exit of the kitchen when she bumped on Kylian who was walking in at the same moment. He reached for her arms to stop her before the crashed on each other.

“Careful where you going, can you?” She looked up at him. Ignored his comment and walked past him “Your boss won’t post his pregame predictions?” she stopped on her tracks, grasping on the computer “I was excited-“ Kylian got an apple from the basket taking a bite. “Stayed up to read it last night.”

She turned her body to face him, forcing a smile on her lips “he’d tell you it’s very unprofessional to stay up late before a match. I truly hope it doesn’t influence your playing.” His face fell, he kept the apple in between his teeth while glaring at her. She gave him another smile, turned back on her way. He finally bit on his apple swallowing the piece aggressively.

“What did you do?” Asked Hakimi, standing next to his friend.

“Nothing!” Kylian defended “I even bought her cat food” Hakimi’s eyebrows drew together and Kylian was quick to explain “she actually has a cat- it wasn’t for her. I wasn’t trying to be an asshole.”

On the ride to the stadium Taylor was sitting alone at the front, while the boys were basically throwing a party on the back. She could feel Galtier’s eyes on her, studying her. It was making her skin itch. She still hadn’t posted that article. Before the game the team gathered on the locker room, Galtier was in the middle making on of his speeches and motivating the team. She was standing by the door, arms crossed on her chest as she listened. Kylian gazed at her while she wasn’t looking, he got so carried away at some point he stopped listening to Galtier, he was just watching her. When the motivational speech was over, she left them to get dressed.

“Do you have a spare bottle?” asked Hakimi, looking inside Kylian’s bag.

“Yeah-“

“Dude what is this?” Hakimi pulled out a napkin. It was the napkin Taylor had made her notes on. Kylian grabbed it and threw it back on his bad, picking out a water bottle for his friend and zipping the bag closed. Hakimi laughed and grinned at his friend but didn’t say anything.

Taylor sat on the benches watching at her team. Her team. God that sounded weird but they were in a way, weren’t they? The game started, figures running and chasing a ball or chasing each other. She wanted to run in there and help the team as well. When she saw Neymar shooting an awful pass at Burnet she yelled and jumped up from the benches.

“HEY! LOOK WHERE YOU ARE SHOOTING JUNIOR”.

Galtier looked at her outburst and she was expecting him to tell her to shut up but he smiled. That made her feel better. Ektike scored at the first 10 minutes, giving them a head start. She jumped in excitement and threw herself on Galtier. Galtier remained still and she pulled back quick, looking away. She was starting to get really into the game and she wanted to yell even more but she had to hold herself, reminding herself that the team still saw her as just a journalist. It was when she started giving pointers at Marquinhos that Messi gave her a confused look, watching her from the other side of the field. She realized she was getting out of control so she sat back down and put her hand over her mouth. Then she saw him. He was running with the ball in his feet, kicking it towards the opponents, he was going to score. She leaned forward in excitement, ready to jump and celebrate until he was tackled on his ankle, twisting it and tumbling on the grass right outside the penalty area. She got up rushing as close as she could get, her feet almost crossing the white line. She tried to see him but he was crowded by the rest of the team and the medics. Meanwhile Marquinhos was discussing with referee, arguing about whether it was a penalty or not. Half the stadium was yelling yes and the other half was yelling no. Her eyes were stuck on the man in yellow, waiting to see him signaling and whistling in favor of her team but-

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” She yelled when the penalty was denied “THAT WAS CLEARLY ON THE AREA”. She made a step forward and was pulled back immediately by Ramos. Who wrapped her arms around her and basically picked her up to keep her out of the field.

“You don’t wanna do that chipmunk-“ he warned. Marquinhos and Messi were still arguing with the referee. She could feel her blood boiling- she took a deep angry breath, her entire face pouting. She walked back at the bench, biting on nails. Kylian was escorted out of the field for his injury. She didn’t go up to talk to him but she saw him with his father. Like his dad was reprehending him and he had this look in his eyes, like he was giving up. She felt heart getting heavy on the sight. She looked away.

At some point during the final minutes another foul happened, this time at Neymar and close to her side of the field. But the opponents were never given a card, this time she didn’t hold herself, stepping forward over the line and yelling-

“FUCKING PAID IDIOT OF A REFEREE-“

The man in yellow turned to look at her confused and offended. “Excuse me?” he questioned.

“Two wild fouls and you do nothing about it-“

“Settle your tone young lady-“ oh no he didn’t-

Ramos was now next to Taylor, standing in between her and the referee “Taylor get back” he warned.

But taylor looked over his shoulder on her tip toes and pointed at the referees. Things got quickly out of hand “DON’T YOU FUCKING TELL ME WHAT TO DO WITH MY TONE YOU PIECE OF SHIT-“

Kylian saw the chaos unfolding before his eyes. He got up and along with the rest of the team got near her, swarming around her like ants. Half of them were trying to reason with the referee while the other half was pulling her back. But she would slap their hands off and kick her legs to be let go while she cursed and yelled. Kylian squeezed himself in between the other, trying to hold her arm because he knew what was coming and sure enough a moment later the referee raised a yellow card at her for her attitude and creating trouble in the middle of the game.

“WHY DON’T YOU TAKE THAT CARD AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR-“

“WILOCK ENOUGH!” Galtier yelled. She stopped immediately. The referee glared at her while walking backwards to get back on the middle of the field. Her eyes burned with anger while all the players returned to their position. When everyone was gone Kylian tried to get close, he reached for her arm, she slapped it off so he raised his hands up in surrender. He wanted to laugh. She looked like a little girl who had just been stolen her favorite doll, it took his mind off the chaos in his mind. The regret of getting injured and the anger. She turned her back on him and walked back on the benches sitting as far away from him as she could. She put her elbows on her legs, balanced her face on her hands and puffed.

He tilted his head, taking a note of how her cheeks and nose got red when she was angry and how messy her hair was now. Her lips shaped in a angry pout. She looked… cute.

This house no longer feels like home.

STADIUM LOCKER ROOMS - NIGHT

Despite the incident with the referee the team won and they all celebrated in the locker room. Hugging and cheering for each other. Everyone commented about Taylor’s outburst, laughing at her.

“Thought we had a second coach there for a while.” Messi said while she was pouring herself another glass of champagne. Taylor gazed up to his, her mouth slightly opening. She wanted to tell him the truth.

“Would you like that? A woman as a coach?”

Messi laughed. She immediately regretted her question but then “Greatest coach I had in life was my mother. Why not?” he smiled at her, poking her shoulder and walking away. She thought about what he said, getting some encouragement. She let down the champagne bottle and turned around. Marquinhos had been standing behind her, a smile on his face. She felt embarrassed. He game and sat next to her both leaning on the edge of the table behind them while the watched at the rest of team. They didn’t say anything for a while, she wasn’t sure if she should apologize or not.

“That was ballsy” he suddenly said and she looked up at him.

“You think I’m gonna be in trouble with Galtier?”

“No… I’ll talk to him.” She nodded, drank from her glass. “You’re already prepared to go to war for them. That’s good.”

“That or I just hate paid referees.” He laughed, his chest vibrating. “Possibly both.”

“They’re gonna warm up to you if you keep going like that.” He said “It’s a matter of time before they trust you. Even the cynics. Just remember your job is not just to go war for them or… push them to their limit in order for them to give you, their best. Galtier can do that…” His eyes fell on her and she looked in his “Sometimes you just gotta be there for them”

She studied around the room, counting her soldiers. There were two missing, the broken one and his loyal friend. Kylian and Hakimi.

STADIUM ROOF TOP – NIGHT

Kylian stood by the marble walls, leaning on them. He watched down at the now empty streets. A few hours ago, crowds were yelling for his team, now they were all gone. He looked at the sky and stars, while the chilling air hit his face. He never went downstairs with the rest of team to celebrate, he and Hakimi stayed on the rooftop and Hakimi had just left. So, he was alone. He liked it that way, he could run the game through on his mind, all the things he missed and did wrong. He glanced back when he heard the door opening, that’s when he saw her, dressed in a jersey and her jeans. He rolled his eyes and looked back at the sky “You’ll freeze to death.”

“Didn’t think you’d mind” she said, cuddling herself and rubbing her arms.

“you’re right I don’t.”

She ignored his comment “why don’t you come downstairs? We are gonna head back in a little while.”

“I’m fine up here.”

“You don’t wanna celebrate?” she went closer, standing next to him but he kept his eyes on the empty streets.

“Got nothing to celebrate.”

“Our team just won-“

“Our?” he asked, almost laughing “since when is it our team Ms. I don’t want to be biased-“

“That’s not fair. You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t and frankly I don’t care. Half the reason I played shit today was you-“

“Excuse me?”

He motioned his hands, annoyed at her “you suggested we let ourselves get fouled in dangerous areas-“

“You have to be joking-“ she raised her voice.

“Why don’t you go tell your boss about that before he writes his next goddamn article-“

“What is wrong with you?” she yelled. Her body warming up just by the frustration “I’m reaching out for you- I’m trying to help and every time I think I’m getting somewhere you turn into a dick-”

“You bring it out to me, what can I do.” He shot back, his face holding a dark expression. She let out a bitter breath and decided to turn her back on him, heading towards the door then she stopped. No, she thought, he wasn’t getting away with this.

“You know the issue with you is that you choose to be an asshole. You could be a good person but you choose to limit yourself to other people’s opinions time after time after time- what happened to you?” she cried but he didn’t turn to face her, despite her tone. He bit on the inside of his cheek while she spoke, holding his hands in tight fists to control his anger “You played against 11 men by yourself. You played against Argentina by yourself while the rest of your team was sipping tea and looking at the weather-“

“Don’t talk about my team like that-“ he growled

“I’ll talk about them any way I want because it is the truth.” She got closer “you were by yourself in that game and You scored three goals in one fucking game-“

“Two of which were penalties as your boss and everyone else loves to point out-“ he yelled back, turning to face her and waving his hand “so don’t you fucking give me that speech because even that wasn’t enough to satisfy him- or them” she stepped back while he got closer, not because she was scared but because she was worried, he’d stop talking If went close enough and she really wanted him to keep talking. “I could score 5 goals against Messi himself and it still wouldn’t be enough no matter what I do. It’s never perfect and it’s the same thing over and over again ever since I got back from Qatar- the same articles, the same headlines, the same struggle to live up their expectations.” It seemed he had gotten everything out of his chest. She could guess who ‘they’ was and she knew one of them was probably his own father, who had coached him for most of his life. She caught herself feeling sorry for him, she caught herself wanting to hug him but she chose to stand still. Say nothing. Do nothing and she studied his face while his facial expression was turning from angry to regretful. Regret for telling her all these things. She didn’t know how long they had been staring at each other but she started trembling, shaking from the cold.

He noticed it.

“Get inside before you turn to ice.” He said, trying to look and sound like he didn’t care at all and turned his back on her again. Leaning on the marbles just like he had before, grasping his hands together, expecting her to leave. He didn’t even sense her getting closer, not until she placed her hand on his. Her cold, small hand on his. His eyes shot up to find hers immediately. Her eyes reflecting his sorrow, he thought there was more in them, hidden emotions and words that she wouldn’t say but perhaps it was all in his mind.

“Humans they do that. They see someone better than them, someone they fear and they try to humanize him by setting him up with impossible expectations. They did it to gods and they do it each other. It’s not about you, it’s about them.” Her hand gripped tighter on his just for a few seconds and he could feel it trembling against his skin, searching for warmth, just as she went to pull away, he looked down and put his other hand above hers, rubbing it to give it some warmth. When he gazed up at her face again her rosy lips had began to lose their color. He pulled away and unzipped his jacket, putting over her and her exposed arms, she tried to shake it off but he didn’t care.

He fixed the collar, her eyes studying him while he made sure she was appropriately covered by the cold and meeting his when he lowered his head. And then… silence. Stillness. Warmth. His hands settled on her shoulders while they stared in each other’s eyes. An unfamiliar itch on her throat. An unfamiliar feeling on his chest or maybe all too familiar.

“Go inside” he whispered. “don’t want you freezing to death before the next game.” He paused, she thought he was going to say something nice “seeing you getting a yellow card was really satisfying- “

She cracked up, laughing and he forced a kind smile on his lips. “I knew you’d enjoy that.” She said and his hands fell from her shoulders on her arms, rubbing them for a few seconds before he moved away from her. “If you stay here, you’ll freeze.”

“I’ll be down in a second.” He reassured her and she nodded. She went to take off his jacket but he raised his hand “You’ll give it to me downstairs.” He said and she smiled but she didn’t move. He scoffed, shaking his head “you wanna say something what is it? Another advice?”

“it’s my best one yet. Works on everyone.” She reached for his arm, giving it a squish “go on vacation before you drive yourself insane.” He laughed and she gave him one last nod before she walked away, getting inside the warm building. He returned to his previous position admiring the stars but his mind kept wandering back to her. He heard the door opening and he thought it was her again, a smile appearing on his lips which quickly faded away when he saw Verratti standing in front of him.

“How’s it going? Is the plan working?”

He wasn’t sure what he meant at first, then he remembered. He closed his eyes and nodded quickly “yeah bro, I’m getting close.”

“for a while I thought you started taking a liking at her.”

He laughed “no of course not.” Right? "

-

HE KEPT THE FREAKING NAPKIN 😭😭😭😭😭 so after everyone basically said that they prefer longer chapters i decided to give you what you want and chapters will usually he as long as this one. Especially now that things yk are getting heated. Kylian trying to hide his feelings like PLSSS. Im having so much writing this story and i hope you're all still following and enjoying it as much as mee. Pls pls comment your thoughts and your feedback, it Is always hiiiighly appreciated. I love Youuuu💜💜💜 do you like me adding the songs btw? Or do you think it's too much?

Next chapter »

[mewpathy]

FINALLY. THE REASON WHY I MADE THIS SIDE BLOG. HER.

Been having a TON of brainrot from TOH again and my old mlp next gen habits kicked in sooooo... yeag

More ab her under the cut bc WOOOO BOY i have SO MANY THOUGHTS ON HER

So! I think I should begin with just the fact that she is, for lack of a better term, a anomaly. Grimwalkers have never been recorded to reproduce- on top of her being a weird mixture of not really human and not really witch... Uncanny valley for both species yk?

Hunter and Luz were in their mid-20s when Luz got pregnant with Lunala,, which was a shock for both. More Hunter than Luz lmao she was cruising. At the time the two had just started up a cultural exchange of sorts with the human realm so on top of the stress of new baby... yeah it was a time.. Doesn't help that halfway through Luz's body was like- smth,, smth aint right and so while not on bedrest, she did have to tone down her activities and now, with medicine advancing, many theorize that the left over Titan magic in her is the only reason she survived.

Then out popped Lunala! Lil freak of a girl. Hunter cussed out the fact hes a clone bc bby girl gots her wack goofy ahh cousin(?)s blue eyes- Phillips last F u lol- the yellow from Mama only started coming out when she turned 4-ish. On top of that, she got the staple four digits with pawpads all Grimwalkers have and EXTREMELY horrible equilibrium and thermoregulating ability. She is bundled up 24/7 and cant walk without her cane. Messed up gal.

Due to the irregularities of magic during her formation her bile sac cannot filter magic properly- some days she'll be equal to a fully grown witch and others she'll be bedbound due to her own bile sac essentially leaking the excess out of her when a usual one would get rid of the "used up" magic via normal ways- another reason why she uses her cane. On top of this, the excess magic (if she hasn't used any in a while) starts to drip out of her mouth, being almost acidic. A fine line she has to walk between literally spewing acid and being poisoned by her own body. She survives tho! Also her teeth too big for her gotdamn mouth,, queen of braces

BUT OH HO HO. THIS DOES NOT STOP HER FROM BEING A LIL CREECHER. A GOOFBALL. A MENACE. She looks /TERRIFYING/ when happy/scheming but genuinely means well- taking her Mama's words to heart- "It becomes bullying when no one but yourself is having fun" and essentially tries to make others laugh/be in a good mood,, unfortunately a lot of people find her to be unnerving- only really finding a few good friends in Ophelia- Willow and Amity's adopted daughter-, King, Collector, and a school friend Ricardo- a human on the Boiling Isles via the cultural exchange program.

Outside of other's around her age, she gets along with her parents and family wonderfully! Lunala can be very quiet when she wants too and has found a particular gift for essentially reading people and being able to help them- magical therapist if you will. On top of exploring the human realm with her Auntie Vee (Who has become a cross country explorer and nature conservationist), she has a hell of a time helping her Dad practice for his games or his most recent pailsman carving, or helping her Mama document the entirety of the Boiling Isles or be a proof reader for her Mama's books. Fun stuff!

Her pailsman- Manny- is named after Luz's dad, after seeing pictures her Abuela left out. Manny and Lunala are two peas in a pod- with both being seen as unnerving. On top of that, Manny being a King Cobra gives a slight hint to Lunala's... less than spectacular anger. She doesn't get angry often but when she does her bile sac works overtime with the amount of adrenaline she gets from her anger, which, of course, leads to the acidic overspill and very... unsightly view.

As she gets older, and learns to control her anger more, she'll become a terrifying politician both in the Boiling Isles and in the human realm and hobbyist child psychologist.

ANYWAY ITS MIDNIGHT AND I GOTS SCHOOL BYE HOPW YALL ENJOY THIS RANT

[or0ch1maru]

How about a y/n who likes collecting things? Pretty rocks, feathers, or buttons? (or even stuffed animals?) Would the Akatsuki find this cute? Or maybe a waste of time?

This my loves is what I like to call crow brain. See something pretty, you pocket it 🥺

I swear you must live in my walls or something because this^ this right here is me. My dresser is covered in rocks, acorns, and other cute things I’ve collected over the years hehe. (im also a huge stuffy collector🥺)

•

•the first time they notice you pick up and pocket a cool looking rock, you received a few curious glances

• “it was pretty” you reply with a shrug before getting back to the business at hand

•another time, they caught you picking up something off the ground, when asked what it was, you showed the red, heart shaped button off proudly, a smile that reached your eyes plastered across your face

•then, there was the time you and the rest of the Akatsuki ventured into the Hidden Rain to meet with your leader and his right hand woman

•a few wanted to stop by a small convenience store for a drink after the tedious travel so while you waited for them to finish, you did a little shopping of your own, but not for food, or a drink

•as you stood outside the small and now crowded shop, your eyes fell on an antique store across the way

•while your team was distracted, you bolted across the wet road, arm held over your head to shield you from the never ending rain, eyes falling on a rather worn, and raggedy looking teddy bear. One that was well loved by its past owner, that is now in need of a new one

•you opted out of needing a bag for your new friend and walked out with the bear tucked under your arm, using your cloak to shield him from the weather

•by now, your comrades have gotten used to this, and don’t really bat an eye when they see you pick up or buy something completely random

•so when you met back up with the team, nobody even as much raised an eyebrow at the item you’re holding against your side

•one evening, you were perched on your bed, painting your nails your designated dark purple color when a knock came through

• “come in” you replied cheerfully as you brushed a streak across your big toe, tip of your tongue poking out in concentration

• “here” you lift your head when you hear Deidara’s voice. Your eyes drift to his outstretched palm, a shiny blue colored stone sitting near the mouth that’s in the middle of his palm

•you nearly flew into his arms in excitement, a wide smile as you take in his gesture of kindness

• “I love it, thanks dei” you replied happily, taking the stone from him and walking towards the shelves that sit against the wall to the left of you

•he lets out a satisfied ‘hmph’ as he watches you place the rock towards the front of a shelf, sitting beside all the other things you’ve collected or have been gifted to by fellow members

•like the soft, yet elegant pale green and white feather Konan brought to you a month ago

•or a handful of Pilea peperomiodes that sit in a pot that Tobi hand picked for you somewhere outside only yesterday

•or the single 5 leaf clover that Kisame and Itachi stumbled across on a mission last week

•little do you know, anytime your comrades leave for a mission, one of the first things they do when they leave, is look for something you might like, your habit rubbing off on them

•even if it’s as little as a cool looking rock or

•a cute stuffed animal in a store they happened to visit while away

[toots-senpai]

Ghost and König X Afab! Reader Poly HC's

Authors Note: pure horny out of a writers block for military propaganda characters with masks. you betcha… whooooop

Author: @toots-senpai

Fandom: call of duty: modern warfare

Pairing: ghost x stoner! reader x könig

Rating: R 18+

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: weed/smoking, oral (both receiving), public! sex, car sex, dp, recording, intoxicated! sex, sex toys

sfw

they pay attention to their schedules enough to make sure that you know when you’re alone and when both of them will be home and or one of them. it’s all estimates but it makes the three of you feel good to know that there’s always time in between. even if sometimes when one is home they have to wake you up and tell you that they have to leave at least it always within these estimates.

they are early morning birds most definitely. ghost sleeps in a bit longer and holds you closer to him in the morning after könig had you all night close to himself and ghost will never fail to put you back into his chest in the morning instead of having your face tucked into könig’s bicep. these two make for really warm nights and the mornings you all sleep in together simon usually complains that könig didn’t make breakfast. if it’s not you it’s always him designated for meals.

simon is the animal lover by default. immediately after settling down together you guys pick a pet for the home. könig got a snake and simon got a dog, pretty doodle for you to take on walks and the men train the dog vigorously before leaving you with it. most definitely rescued the dog and argued with könig about over population in animals on the way to the shelter. there’s a chance you ask simon for a cat instead and he’ll be a bit disappointed but won’t argue about and will most definitely end up with a bourbon in his hand and a cat tucked away on his gear.

if you like being held while they walk with you in public könig usually does it while simon holds the bags. könig always holds you chest to chest with his fingers laced underneath the fat of your ass and ghost prefers to hold you bridal style. simon doesn't like to hold you as much as könig but he holds you in private when könig isn't available for your koala desires.

they have assigned loveseats/single sofas and assigned places when you walk together both of them will usually always stand on the outside if two of you are together one on one but fully together könig usually stands on the inside unless there are alot of people then he’ll take the outside. könig sleeps on the left side of the bed though but simon likes sleeping close to the door. they don’t bicker about the left side at home and könig will always give up for anything simon wants because your wants is more of what he cares about but they do tend to bicker at hotels. even so simon has more of a heart for könig than he has for simon.

könig likes it more romantic and planned than simon but simon likes to detour and find love in hidden places.

they like to fish and you all own a summer house because of them. you find out that they've been using it as a safehouse as the expensive boat has been used on their missions you’ve collected from the bullet holes that you had to point out to them and had to get fixed by yourself.

they didn’t care when you ‘fessed up’ to them about smoking weed. könig cares about your eating habits but simon shrugged it off, he doesn't like your dealer though. he won't admit it but it him judging their lifestyle. they didn’t expect your collection though, they’ve never looked at you to be a collector of pieces and have an entire zip of weed hidden away. könig asked for a small sesh and the boys were honestly just infatuated with the smoke that left your lips and theirs. könig gets horny high and it made simon genuinely make fun of him for the first time on his tolerance. simon relaxes and likes to cuddle more when he's high but simon rarely gets high on purpose.

you and könig will most definitely force him to smoke along the journey but he denied for awhile until you brung up edibles that's when he smoked a little more with you. simon liked the eddies but könig had a panic attack. könig stopped smoking after that.

even with them not fucking with weed like that they do like to participate in whatever you wanna do. morning bong rip on the porch? könig has coffee for the two of you and tea for simon. hotboxing the car in an abandoned parking lot? könig likes to stay outside the car and enjoy the fresh air while being your lookout.

nsfw

adventures with the two are very common and during hotboxes with simon, he loves to end your smoke seshes any way he can. he’ll make you moan loud enough for könig to finally come down from ontop the car as a lookout or will purposely rock the car with fake thrusts until könig complains about the sound of simon's shenanigans and would want to go home.

but car sex? oh my god! steamy windows and both of them moving around intensely to try to fit in the tiny car and thrust into the spots that make your vision swim and make you dizzy makes the boys buy a better car. a truck inspires the two of them into 'cinema' for some odd reason and the make make a number collection of ‘movies’ with pretty backdrops while you’re being fucked in the cargo bed with a couple of pretty blankets that compliment your skin. könig has the truck but simon and könig bickered about having another car so he got an suv and likes to tie you up and play with you in the backseat with his phone recording in front of you two. very good angles simon has a really good catch at getting your angles and lighting just right so that late night adventures with just simon usually ends up with you in his lap and his dick drilling into your dripping pussy and his fingers pulling at your nipples while he whispers to you about how pretty you look.

late nights after drinking könig will always be your carrier to the car allways so 9 times out of 10 after the pub könig always starts his shenanigans first. he’s holding your intoxicated form because it’s his job but with his hands are where they are supposed to be when he holds you and he’ll always dig to feel how the liquor dampens your panties and usually leads to the three of you in the alley with ghost’s hand on your mouth to stop you from whimpering or even gasping for air when they both penetrate your holes.

double penetration has admittedly gotten you to the point that they can just slide into you with ease. if the weeks are long away from you and they’re stuck in missions when they come back the prep for them will always be almost terrifying. if you ever tell them you'd be in for a day of being stuck between the two of the men who would release an entire month's worth of their sex drives into your system but you go out of your way to keep yourself stretched for them. your toy collection would be a waste if you didn't.

they live for oral and survive on it, experts at using their mouths. will both go out of their way to eat you out and love to bite and leave as many marks as they can on your skin and of course they eat ass they are not pussies by any means and if anything that stops the bicker between your thighs but instead leaves a burn as the two men wrap their arms around your thighs and hips. könig has bigger fingers and loves to tease you while simon will suck your clit until your squirting all over them.

simon likes fucking you from behind when you have könig lodged in your throat so he can make you gag with every thrust and könig likes to grab your hair in a makeshift pony and thrust inside your throat slowly. simon likes the way könig chokes and stutters as he's groaning when you gag him just right but he gets mad at simon if he’s pushing you too gag too hard while you’re sucking him off.

könig likes drunk sex and loves high sex, he's a power bottom but intoxicated he subs. even after könig stopped smoking he still wants you to blow it in his mouth. simon during drunk sex is a bit rough and uncoordinated but when he's high he also likes to power bottom and his voice get's raspy when he's high barking around orders to the two of you.

both have some wicked oral fixations and love to spit and cum where they want, they love it when they can use whatever spit or cum to make disgusting noises as they suck hickeys and squeeze and bite bruises into your skin to laugh as you whimper and jump against whoever is holding your wrists down.

[randomfoggytiger]

Collector's Edition: Colleagues, and Agents, and A.D.s-- Oh My! (Part II)

For the anon who requested: do you have any fic recs with Mulder and Scully case filing with other law enforcement tasks forces? or general pov outsider?

Loose chronological order below~

@fbismostunwanted1158/ElizabethJaneway1158's The Fall, X-Files Style

“Scully—“

“That was my voice,” my strength returned, “And I did care.”

Warm calloused fingers brushed the top of my hand. Pleading.

No. This. This is my justification.

In a situation mirroring The Falls, Scully is cornered and beaten by a vengeful convict.

@suitablyaggrieved/ScullyLovesQueequeg's Unnamed

“I’ve been looking into different avenues, looking for something that maybe we missed. I haven’t given up on her yet. What about you?”

Post 3 Skinner is the only person keeping Mulder's head above water.

theramblinrose's The Holinshed Ghost

“You’re not seriously considering the possibility that a ghost might have murdered those people?” Scully asked from the backseat. She was sipping her drink since Bernie had insisted that he didn’t mind eating and drinking in his vehicle. The presence of a dropped and forgotten French fry near Mulder’s foot suggested that he was telling the truth.

AU-- Mulder and Scully have become more since her return in One Breath; and are gearing up to parenthood as Season 2 unfolds. That doesn't stop them, however, from investigating ghosts.

TCS1121's "Flash 01 - In a Flash", "Flash 02 - Flashing Lights", "Flash 03 - Reconstruction" , and "Flash 04 - Nightfall"

Scully must have been out of the room when he began dry heaving. He barely heard her enter the bedroom as he sat doubled over on the edge of the bed. Speaking softly yet firmly she said, "Mulder it's me. It's morning and it's okay. Remember what we discussed last night? Trust me, you're okay, we're both okay...Mulder."

AU-- Mulder is blinded and Scully disfigured in respective accidents. Although Skinner is able to keep them around, both must still battle their own severe traumas-- thankfully, together.

@baronessblixen's (Ao3) Rumor Has It

"Fine," Kim says, sighing, "but you have to keep it to yourself. It's juicy. You know Agents Mulder and Scully?"

In her stall, Scully gasps. It's about her. Not just her; her and Mulder. What was it this time, she wonders? What secrets does Kim think she knows about them?

AU-- Pre-Requiem Scully learns about her pregnancy from a rather dubious source: office gossip.

@rationalcashew/RationalCashew's Dark is the Way; Light is the Place (Ao3)

The chowed down in a comfortable silence. Mulder and Mike munching on burgers and fries while Scully ate something stereotypically healthier; although, it didn’t stop her from stealing Mulder’s fries or eyeing his burger.

He wondered if the baby had inherited his eating habits.

“What?” Mike asked. He must’ve noticed the grin on Mulder’s face.

AU-- Requiem Mulder returns, and is overjoyed at Scully's news. However, their happiness is (partially) tainted by a new, out-of-state serial killer case that tries their relationship (and their patience.) 

@wtfmulder/@momdadimpoppunk's (Ao3) skinner and doggett AU where they become unwilling friends, doggett and skinner (the bro collection), Doggett and Skinner bro angst

“This kid,” Skinner shakes his head. The pair of them are standing in the hall, watching nurses quietly chat and people fret in and out of Dana Scully’s hospital room. “This kid is going to be so messed up.”

S8 forges a friendship between two unlikely kindred spirits.

kittenscully's home run

Months before, he’d wondered briefly if Mulder was some kind of a mind reader. There had even been a time that he’d figured he had to be, to get as close as he must’ve to a woman like Dana. She holds everything close to her chest like playing poker, doesn’t show her hand for anything except a bluff. Voices her thoughts as if placing bets, eyes shifty, ready to bolt or shut down quick if her luck turns bad, as it has tonight. 

Clearly, Mulder isn’t a mind reader. Or, he might be, but John likes to give friends of friends the benefit of the doubt. He doesn’t think Dana is the type to stake it all on a man who would leave her out alone in the cold, knowing full well what it’d do to her. 

Post Three Words Doggett realizes there is something amiss between Mulder and Scully.

@naraht/Naraht/Sylvia's (dreamwidth) Four ways William Scully got picked up from daycare

When William cries, his mother always averts her gaze from him, embarrassed, unwilling to meet her son's eyes. She takes an indrawn breath and sets her lips into a line, looking anywhere but there. Once William is taken inside, she relaxes again. William's father puts his arm around his partner's shoulders and leads her away, down the road towards the Metro station, speaking to her as gently and reassuringly as he speaks to his son.

"It's all right, Scully. He'll be fine; you don't need to worry. You don't need to worry."

As if she is the one who was crying.

AU-- S9 daycare workers observe two FBI parents and their revolving door of motley helpers.

@slippinmickeys/SlippinMickeys/Slippin' Mickeys's Three Part Harmony

When Agent Bryson walked in, Mulder pinched the bridge of his nose. He tried to recall if he’d ever seen an episode of Law & Order that took place entirely in an interrogation room. He would have turned it off.

AU-- OntheRun Mulder and Scully stumble across an assassination attempt on their son's life. With no other choice, the reunited family continue on, hoping to be always one step ahead of their pursuers.

@brenayla/@inactiveayla's (Ao3) midnight gold (Ao3)

Scully looks up at Mulder and smiles at something he’s said, and Julie feels cold. The energy of the party dims just for them, with their chameleon eyes and vacillating profiles.

AU-- Two partners in the FBI notice something... otherwordly about the Spookys.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[starlight-incarnate]

Ainur as Aesthetics: 

Melkor  —  eye-rolls, either sleep for the week or sleep is for the weak, great music taste, extremely passionate, smarter than you'd think, abandoned cities, alcohol, doesn't care about opinions, midnight hours, black coffee, hates humanity, cold hands, barely-there eyeliner, sharp smiles, lace-up boots, doesn't like to be told what to do, anger so blinding that you forget where and who you are, staring at the mirror until your features start to disappear, bad decisions, their words can hit you like a gunshot, the chilling sensation of metal on your skin, sharp claws ready to slash anyone they encounter, shattered antique mirrors, long dark scarves, dark and tousled hair, swallowing hard, a little broken.

Manwë  —  pale white snow, red cheeks, dried flowers that used to be the colour of the sun, quiet half-smiles, sunlight coming through an open window in the morning, hair tucked behind ears, gives the most thoughtful gifts, always neat, sparkly jewellery, beautiful poetry, comforting hugs, light footsteps, kisses on cheeks, a laugh like wind chimes, thunderstorms that you feel in your chest, intelligent eyes, collector of small objects, windswept hair, loves their friends with almost an unhealthy amount of loyalty, the colour of the sky at dusk, a crisp autumn breeze, soft hair, gold-flecked souls, the one who is there for you even when you think you don't need them, singing under their breath, smiles as the rain falls down and laughs as their hair lifts in the breeze.

Varda  —  cracked spines of leather-bound classics, sharing pieces of your soul with the world, starting revolutions with simple words, rosewater, cherry blossom petals floating through the wind, making promises, midnight conversations, writing into abysmal nothingness, stargazing, knowing smiles, doesn't open up easily, soft skin, crystals, a night where the clouds hide the moon, stories swirling in your mind, cursive letters, piercing eyes, whispers filled with secrets, studying things that do not exist, bright flashes of light outside your window, silk bedsheets, mysterious, handwritten notes, stays up so late it's early, plays quiet music for ambiance, fingertips stained with ink.

Ulmo  —  bodies full of stories, a will that ebbs and flows, lazy smiles, no real devotion to anything but existence itself, wordless lullabies, glassy blue eyes, moves with grace and rhythm, late night swims, blue tie dyed sheets, flowing outfits, the rough ocean at night, tall waves and bitter winds, salty hair, long limbs, kind of sad and tired but you've never see them cry, goes with the flow, quiet voice but loud meaning, walks with purpose, always looks their best, very kind and giving, seashells, loud laughter, perfect posture, habit of overthinking, bare feet, ice-cold lemonade, laying on the ground to soak up the sun, sand in the air, intricate designs, high ceilings, dim lights, bitten nails.

Aule  — confident, likes to perform, acts cool but is secretly emotional underneath, bold/dark colours, loves challenges, gets mad and forgives just as quickly, wouldn't change for anyone, laughing so loudly that strangers stare at you, running around like crazy person with your lover, compliments a stranger's crazy hair colour and feeling so good when they smile, unhealthy amounts of candy, fiery red sunsets, getting back up after being knocked down, they know that their friends are right behind them wherever they go, the burn in your lungs after chasing something you'll never be able to catch, always does their own thing.

Yavanna  —  warm days, soft smiles, making sure everyone is happy, walking barefoot, falling asleep in the sun, wishes everyone would be kinder, mugs of too-sweet tea, the person who screams don't kill the spider, adores animals, covered in freckles, one can never quite tell exactly what their eye colour is, pointing to the stars as they peek out from behind the clouds, large yawns early in the morning, a question left unanswered, honey, one hand catching another, tea that is swallowed for its warmth and not the taste, faded patterns on well-loved t-shirts, dew beading on flower petals, the imprints tight socks leave behind, wanderlust's yearning pull.

Orome  —  long hair, loves nature and animals, mist, sharp features, dirt under their fingernails, very down to earth, always willing to help, the strong friend, always has new, interesting facts to tell, tough as all hell, doesn't love easily but always loves deeply, walking barefoot everywhere, wildflowers threaded into messy braids, laying in the afternoon sun, big adventures, crisp air, deeply opinionated, climbing the tallest trees around, muddy feet, toothy smiles, accepting of everyone, follows their own path, stargazing off mountain cliffs, running through tall grass, folklore stories of fairies and dragons, a child at heart.

Nienna  —  honeyed and sulky dark summers, pomegranates, thunderstorms, magnolias, unkept promises, cinematic and shadowy, existing in a trance of melancholy, feels passionately though feigns detachment, slightly off-putting, their presence is announced but even if it wasn't you'd still know they were there, constantly underestimated, desperately afraid of silence, red-rimmed eyes, always appears serene, broken handwriting, short hair, foxes, dead leaves, large coats and scarves, numb fingers, old stone walls, steaming black tea, tears, gazing at a past lover down the hall, the smell before rain, old songs, nostalgia.

Námo  —  set features, eyes the color of dead souls, candles melting wax atop a piano, tragic smiles, an inexplicable sense of sharpness, hot tears, decaying cores, irreversible tornadoes, infectious whispers, heart is always pounding, doesn't like to be seen, nightmares, dark circles under their eyes that they can't hide, doesn't know their limits, slightly self-destructive, the silent one, bitter coffee, quiet observation, black eyeshadow, knows a bit of everything, no-nonsense, cold fingers and colder gazes, being misunderstood, sitting alone in a hard wood chair late at night, dead roses, losing a loved one too soon, moss covering broken gravestones, shattered glass, the taste of melancholy. 

Irmo  —  glows when they talk, dewy eyes, radiates with a blessing from the sun, gentle hands, dandelions, white clouds, the shy warmth of the first days of spring, afternoon naps, soft pillows, carefree laughter, fields of reeds, basking in the moonlight, flower crowns, sunbathing in creeks, gloriously alive, hours among the leaves, kind soul, often lost in their own thoughts, nights spent watching the river, dancing in a circle, holding hands, soft clothes, sun kissed skin, always listening to music, either works too hard or not at all, warm smiles, dancing in the rain, catching fireflies, wanting to do everything and nothing all at once, innocent hope, paper stars in glass jars, bittersweet goodbyes, looking for beauty in everything, water-coloured skies. 

Estë  —  dried orange garlands, snow on green tiled roofs, a bit in love, quills dipped in metallic ink, daydreaming, angelic singing, very fond of cuddling, homemade bread, constantly buying gifts for people, talkative, will hold your hand whenever and wherever, friends with almost everyone, convinced that sleeping at 10pm is late, strawberry ice cream, calming eyes, telling old stories, rosy cheeks, wanting the best for everyone, sunrises, loves nature, passionate about dreams, self-made flower crowns, will stay up late to comfort you, unexpected hugs from the back, not afraid to tell people they love them, humble.

Vairë  —  silver knitting needles, velvet skies filled with twinkling stars, red embroidery thread, hot black tea with spoonfuls of sugar, ballet shoes, hearts carved in birch bark, denim jackets, distant bells, foxgloves, rain moving over hills, cheek caresses, a bedroom left alone, walking in the mud and rain at dusk, resisting change, dead ends, unspoken feelings, finally coming home, looking up at the stars in hope of something more, simultaneously brimming with hope and lifeless, wiling the hours away, staring at the ceiling, wanting to write but not knowing the words, hiding from the world, afraid of the future, a sense of dread.

Vána  —  soft features, the smell of lavender, long walks in the sunshine, singing in a choir, sincere laughter, pastel colours, reading poetry aloud, baking cookies and sharing it with friends, kind gestures, painting on random objects, flower print clothes, lacy socks, handwritten love letters, forgiving people, graceful movements, writing poetry, roses, standing up for those who can't defend themselves, walks through nature, positivity, white lace, long hair, very graceful, always there for you, nostalgia of a time that you never knew, undeniably beautiful, the sweet breeze of a spring morning, slowing drifting off while laying on a green meadow, calm and collected, the best friend you could ask for.

Tulkas  —  loud laughter, hammocks, doesn't know when to stop, can't sleep, jacket with so many fixed holes it has been reduced to patchwork, flashing smiles, living on the edge, free spirit that will rip you to shreds if you dare to try and tame it, bloody knuckles, the moments of silence after a loud screaming match, riding into the sunset, dogs barking in the distance, the smell of fire on the air, running from person to person, unbridled chaos, aimless wandering, on the verge of greatness, call of the void, empty avenues, walking between worlds, wanting to hold the planets, melancholy nights, seeing things that aren't really there, wishing for more, overgrown unkempt gardens, bright colours against dark greens, tripping up on vines and logs, scraped knees.

Nessa  —  can go from laughing to serious fast if necessary, little bits of dark humour, staying up late, they do the little eyebrow thing when they get insulted, doodles, everybody else thinks they have friends but they don’t, red lipstick, lively, can be implosive, forgotten, mood swings like crazy, but very calm when they are happy, regrets decisions they made in the past, affectionately called a little brat, out until late in the afternoon of the next day, does not let anyone kill their vibe, seeing their escape in a person, the echo of your own steps on a tile floor, the sensation of being the only one left, a way that seems to have no end.

Eönwë  —  intimidating, has a soft side but only a few people see it, loves the forest, natural beauty, combat boots, deep thinker, false formality, a chord of music that breaks the silence, clouds rolling in, doesn't get angry but instead just fucking glares at you until you crumble, loves thunderstorms, mind like caverns, hands like stone, to hold or to hurt, heavy irises, earthquake tempers, unrequited love, soft voice, they know you whether you know them or not, lingering touches, people watching, the smell of old books and rain, faint music in the distance, won't let others break their friend's hearts, clearing their throat as a type of warning, moral righteousness, faith in humanity, towering buildings.

Mairon  —  sarcastic comments with a smile, glares that could kill, speaking in such a pretentious way that no one even understands you, obsession over studies, being a good person but getting corrupted, setting fire to the city, eyes like flames, heeled boots, soft aching hands buried in messy hair, ancient ruins, cups of tea gone cold, flawless eyeliner, impulsive decisions, false pretences, sickly sweet smiles, daunting realisations, masquerade masks, too stubborn to admit their regrets, waking up from a nightmare, hands cold to the bone, chest pains, the sharp cold of winter, rotting apples, dark circles under the eyes from not sleeping for days, hands stripped from over-washing.

So! Still trying to work out my masterlist and first few posts I have pre-written. In the meantime, please enjoy this messy aesthetic thingy.

[stevethehairington]

33 "Close your eyes and hold out your hands" for Steddie? 🖤

helloooo, thank you for sending this in!!!! 💕 i LOVE this one and omg i have been wanting to expand upon the idea i had below for SO long and this gave me the PERFECT chance to do so so THANK YOU ahh.

33. "close your eyes and hold out your hands"

Let it be known that the Munson’s are collectors. 

Wayne has his baseball caps, his mugs. Eddie’s mother collected vinyls. His father — prison sentences.

And Eddie? Eddie collects rocks. Sometimes buttons, occasionally shells, if he can find them. Feathers, once in a blue moon. But mostly rocks. Big rocks, small rocks, rocks that are round and perfectly smooth, rocks that have jagged edges and funky protrusions. Rocks made of coarse granite and rocks made of translucent quartz, and once, notably, a rock made of sleek, inky obsidian. He collects gray rocks and brown rocks, green rocks and red rocks. His favorites are the purple ones that crack open to crystals.

So Eddie collects rocks. But he never keeps them for himself.

You see, every rock he finds — every bottle cap, every loose coin, every lost charm — he gives to Steve.

And Steve? Steve holds onto every single one of them. He keeps a shoebox tucked away safe and sound beneath the bed, and inside the shoebox is his trove of cherished treasures. All of the things that Eddie has gifted him with over the years. Every so often, he’ll take the box out, sit on the floor, and sort through the trinkets. He’ll smile at the sea glass and marvel at the marbles, and count all of the rocks, laughing as the number climbs and climbs. (His favorite is the purple one too.)

The trails are a pretty good place to find rocks — the best, actually. This is something that Eddie has learned personally.

In his bid to find hobbies outside of carting overgrown children to the arcade and the local diner and holing up in stale basements to watch movie after movie, Steve takes up hiking of all things. There’s something about the combination of a good workout, fresh air, and the chance to become one with nature or some bullshit like that that ends up being too damn irresistible to him. He takes to it like a fish to water.

Eddie, to the surprise of them both, likes to tag along on Steve’s hikes. Or — likes to isn’t quite right: Edide tags along. Outdoorsy activities have never been his favorite, and exercise isn’t exactly his idea of a fun time, but Steve likes both of those things, and Eddie loves Steve. He wants to be able to do things with his boyfriend, things that Steve likes. He wants to show his support for Steve’s interests the same way that Steve shows support for his.

So Eddie goes on hikes. 

Has been going on hikes for the past three years now, believe it or not.

The hikes are hell, mostly. Uphill battles that leave his lungs burning and his calves straining and his feet aching. By the end, his bangs are always stuck unflatteringly to his forehead, and his shirt is soaked through. 

Even after all this time, they still don’t get easier. 

(That probably has something to do with Eddie’s healthy appetite for cigarettes and chalices of mountain dew and those god damned Scotcheroos of Claudia Henderson’s that he can never just eat one of. But whatever. Some things are too good to give up.) 

The twinging muscles and the fucked up hair and the general funk seeping out of his skin are always made worth it when they finally reach the peak and Steve positively glows. The way his smile stretches across his face, big and bright; the way he angles his face towards the sun and breathes in the clean air; the way he turns to Eddie and grabs his hand and says, “Isn’t this great?” in the most genuine, wondrous manner.

“The greatest,” Eddie always agrees, and he means it every time.

They are also made worth it by all of the rocks that Eddie finds along the way. Because old habits die hard. (Or not at all, in this case.)

It is these two things — the hiking and the rock collecting — that come together as the perfect catalysts to set in motion the plan he’s been hanging onto for months now.

“Isn’t the view beautiful?” Steve asks, looking out past the edge of the cliff they’d just made it to the top of. In the distance, the sun is just beginning to peak out from behind the trees, casting a golden glow across the lake below.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Eddie replies, nearly tripping Steve up as he sidesteps into his space to lean in close and pop a kiss to his cheekbone.

Steve ducks his head and bats Eddie’s shoulder with his free hand, laughing softly. His other hand is clasped in Eddie’s, hanging between them and swinging lightly with each step. “Cheeseball,” he says, and Eddie just laughs.

They continue to follow the path, enjoying the view of the lake and the dewy morning air and the companionship of one another.

As always, it doesn’t take long before something hidden away in the greenery catches Eddie’s attention. He perks up, dropping Steve’s hand before he darts ahead towards a little patch of dandelions.

Steve shakes his head fondly as Eddie crouches down and starts to pick something out of the weeds. He wonders idly what it is, exactly, that snagged Eddie’s eye this time. 

There are a few dandelions between his fingers when he rises back to his feet and starts towards Steve again, but there’s something else too — something clutched safely in the cup of his hand, concealed by his fingers.

He comes to a stop in front of Steve, bouncing on his heels as an enthusiastic smile spreads across his lips. “Close your eyes and hold out your hands,” he instructs with a tilt of his head.

Steve obliges, always willing to go along with the silly little rigamarole Eddie puts them through each time he has a new trinket for Steve. His eyes flutter shut and he extends his hand.

“I gotcha another rock, Stevie,” Eddie says softly, pacing something gently into the center of Steve’s hand before folding his fingers securely around it.

Eddie’s gift settles into his palm and it feels lighter than any of the other rocks Eddie’s given him. Steve contemplates what kind of rock it might be, what it’s going to look like, if there’s any defining feature that drew Eddie to it in the first place.

“You can look now,” Eddie says.

Steve opens his eyes, and looks down at his hand. Slowly, he unfurls his fist and —

Oh.

It’s not a rock that sits against his palm. Not the kind you find on the ground anyways.

It’s a ring. The rock in question — a diamond, small and tasteful right in the center of a thin silver band.

Steve promptly loses his breath.

When he looks up with shining eyes, Eddie is kneeling in front of him. He’s still red in the cheeks from their hike, kind of sweaty too, with his hair sticking up from where it’s tucked behind his bandana. They’ve had plenty of time to cool down, but he looks breathless, as he gazes up at Steve with big, hopeful eyes and a crooked little smile.

He’s beautiful.

“So what do you say, Stevie?” Eddie asks, holding his little bouquet of dandelions. “Wanna add that one to your collection too?”

The laugh that bubbles up and out of Steve is giddy and electrified and tinged with wetness as the happy tears start to spill over his lashline. He closes his fingers back around the ring and he stumbles forward to fist his other hand into the front of Eddie’s t-shirt and haul him to his feet so he can tug him into a kiss.

“Yes,” he mumbles against Eddie’s lips, “yes, yes, yes.”

Eddie’s arms curl around Steve’s waist and he laughs too, until they’re smiling into one another’s mouths more than kissing.

Steve grabs Eddie’s wrist and flattens his hand, depositing the ring into his open palm. He sticks his own hand out then, the left one, and wiggles his ring finger eagerly. “Put it on me!” He requests.

Eddie laughs, but does just that. He takes Steve’s hand gently into his own and slides the ring down the length of his finger until it fits snugly at the base, right there against his knuckle. It glitters in the sunlight, and Eddie draws Steve’s hand up to his lips so he can press a sweet kiss just above it.

“Thank god you said yes,” Eddie says, twining his fingers with Steve’s and pulling him back in for another kiss in between. “If you made me climb a whole ass mountain and then said no…” he trails off, shaking his head.

Steve snorts. “You love it,” he says. “You love me.”

Eddie softens. “I do,” he says. “And I get to do it forever now.”

“Forever sounds pretty damn nice,” Steve tells him.

“It sure does.” 100 ways to say i love you prompts

[syrena-del-mar]

Interlocking Narratives: Exploring The Chains of Kim and Porchay

I've been rewatching KinnPorsche in the last couple of weeks and even on the second watch, I'm still so intrigued by the relationship between Kim and Porchay (which is only reinforced by @daeyeol4you's Chay deep dives stemming from every episode). It's the irony of what appears to be the sweetest interactions and relationship of the show ending up with unfinished business. I love character deep dives and KinnPorsche is one of those shows that really allows the audience to partake in it. I hadn't realized it on my first watch but @lilitblaukatz is absolutely right, Kim and Chay are using similar necklaces.

There's already so many metas surrounding the type of jewelry that Kim wears, @wildelydawn's dive into Kim's necklaces comes into mind, but I definitely neglected looking more into the necklaces that Chay wears.

Porchay and his Cuban chain necklace with a carabiner pendant

I'll be honest, at first I wasn't sure what the pendant on Chay's necklace was when I first looked at it. I'm pretty sure it took me about 10 rewatches of this scene to even consider that it's a carabiner.

Interestingly enough, during ep. 5 when Chay goes to his first tutor session with Kim, this the only time that Chay wears such a thick chain, specifically what looks to be a Cuban chain (probably a 6 mm at that), outside of the time that he goes to the club and gets drunk. Cuban chains are nothing short of iconic because of their tight, twisted, interlocking links. Popularized in the 70s/80s by hip hop legends, the Cuban chains became a status symbol to impress because it looks classy and expensive. So I can't help but think that just maybe Chay specifically chose this chain to dress himself up for his idol-turned-tutor.

The interlocking links of the Cuban chain are important in creating and influencing the cohesive, elegant look of the necklace. And just as each link is dependent on the other, Chay is heavily influenced by his own life experiences. He's an orphaned child that was raised by his older brother, he's well aware of the sacrifices that Porsche has had to make in order to provide for him, and he's grown up being hounded by the aggressive debt-collectors that his "Uncle's" gambling habits bring. It's why he loves and appreciates Porsche so much, why he believes himself to be unlucky, and why he's as gutsy and straightforward as he is. He's been shaped by the tragedy that has surrounded his upbringing along with the undying love that his brother has given him.

Another prominent feature of the Cuban chain is the alternating large and small links, a duality that is specific to this style chain. Meanwhile Chay navigates, being the quiet and agreeable little brother that he is for Porsche, while also being his own being who knows how to work for what he wants. He's bold and outspoken when it comes to Wik, he needs to be if he wants to grasp at any chance. He plays around with who he is and what is expected of him; it shows in his personality and how carries himself with Kim versus how he is with Porsche.

Not to mention the sheer tightness of the interlocking links provides a strength and resilience that other delicate chains do not, it's almost symbolic of Chay's own strength and resilience. If there's one thing about Chay is that he's endured a lot of pain, he even believes that his whole life has been filled with bad luck, but even with that he's the one character that shows a steadfast resolve and endures multiple betrayals. He sticks to his guns and his decisions, he knows the love he deserves. He was willing to give Kim a chance, he went to him first to explain, he likely would have forgiven the lies if Kim had said that he cared about him and the feelings weren't all a façade. Kim didn't give him that and Chay blocked him out of his life.

Now moving onto the carabiner portion of the necklace. It seems like we see Chay in TWO different carabiner necklaces. The one he wore on his first tutoring session with Kim and the one he has on when he finds out the truth about Kim from Tankhun. A carabiner is synonymous to strength and fortification, a physical form of security that keeps objects together and secures elements. Similarly, Chay clings tenaciously to what he wants, he takes the chance to ask Kim to tutor him, he finds out where Kim lives, he tells him that he loves him. It's his steadfast determination that intrigues Kim, that sets him apart. Chay may be young, but just as carabiner's are used for adventures and exploration, Chay is the one that dares to tread uncharted territories with Kim. Chay is bold and has a willingness to hold fast until his goals are achieved. He's experienced several trials and tribulations in his lifetime and he still holds on, navigating through the challenges while still staying securely true to himself and his wants. Arguably, he's the one with the strongest mental fortitude when it comes to decisions with his love interest. He knows when to let go and when to hold on, even if letting go means hurting a bit more; it's a strength to come to terms and to then stick to his guns.

Kim and the ball chain necklace with a safety pin pendant

First things first, if we look at the history of safety pin jewelry, it's often associated with the notion of it being a sign of rebellion. This sentiment originally become popularized by the punk rock movement and then was again brought into the spotlight after it started being used as a symbol of standing against the xenophobia attacks around 2016 when Brexit occurred.

The safety pin is often used as a tool for quick fixes and connections, it's a resourceful solution to keep things attached, albeit unconventional. It's a tool to keep fabrics together, and it very literally breaks through a barrier to serve its function. Kim, out of the three, is the only one that initially attempts to rebel against his father. He's the one that tries to get out, even if he's ultimately dragged back in. He creates a life outside of the shady dealings of his father and the mafia as a whole. He has to be resourceful to investigate, to get information about what is happening with his family while still maintaining a distance from the direct dealings with the mafia.

Add that with the fine ball chain that attaches the safety pin, it adds to the idea that Kim is adaptable. His changes occur as necessary to reflect the situations that he finds himself in. Kim adapts who he is as an individuals depending of the people that surround him. He fluidly maneuvers through his life in a way that sees fit to get the information that he needs. He can be idol!Wik, tutor!Kim, mafia!Kim, or distant brother!Wik, at the drop of a dime depending on what version of him the situation calls for. Similar to how @hamliet clocked that Kim's painting of himself does not have any discernable features, symbolic of his ability to hide behind masks, it's the same here.

The fact that Kim's necklace is a simple, and rather thin, ball chain with a sturdy safety pin attached hints at Kim's hidden strength. Just by stature alone, he's the smallest of the three Theerapanyakul brothers. He's also the youngest and seemingly the one that is less involved with the mafia. The chain almost seems to serve as a potent remind that appearances can be deceiving. Like the guards first told Porsche, while Kim might seem to be the most normal of the three, he's the most dangerous. The safety pin adorning a delicate ball chain seems to serve as a profound dichotomy that mirrors who Kim really is.

Final Thoughts

The two necklaces seem to be an intentional parallel and paradox of each other. Much like Kim and Chay's position in the story, as Kinn and Porsche's younger brothers that are seemingly uninvolved with the mafia, they're parallels to each other but they're also each other's literary foils.

I really find it interesting that they chose to put both of them in necklaces that have some type of clip contraption on them. Maybe I'm reading (watching?) too into it, but I can't help but believe that the specific designs that the costumers decided to put them it, especially with accessories, goes beyond the simple aesthetics that fit Kim and Chay. Rather it seems like the necklaces are acting as a mirror that reflect their core aspirations, identities and the interactions that they have with each other and the other characters in the show. They're wearing simple accessories that can get overlooked in the moment, but I really think they provide a deeper look into what drives them as characters and gives us a deeper appreciation for both of them.